


A Hero Divided

by amooniesong



Series: The Prophecy Unfolds [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Blood, Fights, First Kiss, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Gods, Love Confessions, M/M, Manhunt AU, Mask and Goggles, Pining, Prophecy, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Royalty, Skephalo fans that have read 91k of fic I hope chapter 9 makes it worth it, Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death, The End, The Nether (Minecraft)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amooniesong/pseuds/amooniesong
Summary: Dream had been brought back from the dead, but at what cost? Sapnap is broken and alone, George is twisting into a monster, and Bad has given his life for the cause. Dream is left to try to find the pieces and repair what's been lost alone, but the story has only just begun and the friends have a long way still to go before their journey is over. But will Dream's plan to bring Bad back come without consequences, or will it open a gateway to a new series of problems?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Series: The Prophecy Unfolds [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818868
Comments: 415
Kudos: 572





	1. Conflict & Peace

Sapnap’s feet were heavy as they hit the ground, pounding rhythmically as he made chase behind George. Fury drove him through his exhaustion and pain, anger that the other man was trying to leave without facing the consequences of his actions. Anything would have been better than nothing, but his utter lack of emotions when he’d admitted to being responsible for both Bad and Dream’s deaths, and for considering and attempting to kill him too, had left him blinded with rage. Sapnap chased George out of the village, George managing to put a little distance between himself and Sapnap with every step he took, though Sapnap wasn’t relenting. 

Cobblestone paths covered in debris soon gave way into short grass that brushed at the hem of their jeans, squishing down and bouncing back as their feet hammered against the Earth beneath them. With the sun rising, and the bright light of the beacon illuminating the world around them, the area was almost completely devoid of mobs and that gave them one less thing to think about while they ran.

“George, _stop_!” Sapnap yelled, his breathing heavy, but his words fell on deaf ears. George was focused entirely on running, his fists balled together tightly as he fought with the turmoil of emotions inside him. He had just about kept himself composed in the church, he had been able to keep everything bottled up and hidden behind a wall of nothingness, but that wall was starting to crumble and he wanted to be alone before he began to unpack everything.

Dream was back, he’d done what they set out to do, and now he needed time and space to figure out everything else that had happened in between. 

Bad was dead, he’d _killed_ Bad even if it had been an accident. He’d suggested killing Sapnap because he’d seen him as a liability, he’d _tried_ to kill Sapnap when he’d slipped up in the Nether. He felt like a monster and he was beginning to look like one too. Even with the mask on he couldn’t shake the image of himself he’d seen reflected in the water the night before, though with the world around him painted in blues and purples he hadn’t been given an opportunity to forget it. This prophecy, whatever it was, he needed to know more about it and himself to be able to control whatever was happening to him.

Maybe if he could do that he would deserve a chance to come back home.

“Stop running George!” 

Sapnap’s voice behind him was like an echo from another life and he wanted to turn around and face him, he wanted to be honest and tell him everything, to remove the mask on his face and show him what he was becoming, but Sapnap would be furious enough with him already and he didn’t want to offer the man another reason to fear and hate him. 

He would’ve continued running if he hadn’t found himself being cut off by the elements. 

A river meandered in front of him, curling around the contours of the land and glistening in the morning sun. He could teleport, but he was utterly exhausted and with the state his mind was already in he didn’t believe he had the strength to quickly and safely disappear from where he was. He needed to buy himself just enough time, he needed to give himself a moment to breathe and to think. 

“George!”

Sapnap’s tone was cold, menacing, accusatory, and as George skidded to a halt and turned around to face him he held his hand out as if he could stop him through nothing more than his mind.

“Don’t come any closer!” He yelled as loud as he could, his eyes squeezed shut for a moment. When the sound of running had stopped and George was confident that there was distance between the two of them he opened his eyes, his chest rising and falling slowly as he caught his breath. Sapnap was stood completely still several meters away, and he looked utterly horrified. Had his mask fallen off? Perhaps his hands had become more purple than before? But when he looked at the position Sapnap was in - his left leg off the floor and his arm out in front of him like he was still mid-sprint - he panicked.

“George, what’ve you done?” Sapnap asked, his voice wavering fearfully. George looked down to his hand, fingers splayed out and pulsing with energy as he seemed to hold the other man frozen in his position, and he felt himself begin to shake. Whether it was from fear or from sheer exhaustion he didn’t know, but he knew that the moment this _stopped_ Sapnap would be running closer to him and he wouldn’t have a second to escape. 

“I’m sorry--” He said breathlessly, feeling a stinging sensation behind his mask as a tear fell from the corner of his eyes, and he disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Sapnap’s body dropped to the ground unceremoniously, landing with a thud in a particularly muddy patch. He closed his eyes and for a moment simply remained there, letting his mind catch up with everything that had happened.

Dream was alive. He was _glad_ Dream had come back to life, and even if George hadn’t been the one to give him the potion, that had been the decision he had come to. Dream would be the one to know if there was another way to bring their friend back to life, Dream was the quickest to react, to adapt, the best fighter and the best strategist - that’s why he had always worked alone whenever they had played in their manhunts before. It would _hurt_ not bringing Bad back, but he’d been bringing Dream back knowing that it was the best chance of having everyone back together again. George’s lack of care and thought for the other man was what had hurt him most of all. 

George was gone. Whatever had happened to him, whatever this prophecy meant, it had taken his friend away from him. He had watched as George had disappeared, too, and he could pinpoint exactly when it had started to happen. When they’d been in the desert searching for Endermen, _something_ had changed in him. It had changed even more in the End, and by the time they fought the Wither his friend was no more. Now he hid behind a mask - and Sapnap was certain he’d seen something glowing behind the slits for his eyes - and was cautious of water. He didn’t want to think about what it meant, and he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to guess the whole truth if he began to approach it, but he had enough suspicions to know that George was gone. 

And Bad was dead. Perhaps with Dream’s help he would still be able to bring Bad back, but if they couldn’t? People would need to know, a funeral would need to be organised - Bad had done so much for them and he deserved to be remembered and loved in return. As much as Sapnap had teased the man for his not-so-hidden affections for Skeppy, he dreaded the idea of telling him what had happened. Maybe the truth would never be revealed, maybe it would be something he’d keep to himself to give Bad’s friends peace, but it was something he feared he would have to consider sooner rather than later.

Then there was himself. Broken, exhausted, and defeated. He’d lost his arm, he’d lost his spirit and could barely imagine what life would be like going forward. Even if he and Dream _did_ somehow manage to bring Bad back once more there was still the matter of George. George was part of their family, like it or not, and not having him with them would be like living without a lung. Their lives wouldn’t be as full or as happy, they would have lost an important part of themselves and would never have been able to say goodbye properly. He couldn’t imagine continuing to be such close friends with Bad and Dream when a part of them was missing, but he couldn’t imagine the rest of his life without them after trying so hard to bring them home. He felt crushed, he felt betrayed, and he felt lost.

He closed his eyes as he got to his feet once more, pushing himself from the mud and neglecting to wipe away the dirt from his clothes and body. He needed to return to the village, to Dream, and he needed to talk. Things needed to be explained and fixed and his friend needed to be taken care of.

While the run to reach the river had taken place over a matter of minutes, the walk back might as well have taken hours. His body felt sluggish and weak and his head drooped down from his shoulders miserably. Illumina’s words about the prophecy that involved the four of them - that they would be remembered as heroes - had crept back to the front of his mind. If the fight with the Wither hadn’t been it then he found himself worrying about what it _could_ be. He wished that the ground would open up beneath him and swallow him whole so he never had to experience whatever hell the Gods had in store for them.

Then again, maybe it was all a lie.

His feet felt sore as his boots hit cobblestone and regardless of the rest that Dream would need to be well enough again to venture out, he knew he needed to take time for himself. He hadn’t thought about taking care of himself for the past week and it showed painfully, and he found himself selfishly looking forward to having the excuse of helping Dream to slow down just a little. Long nights of sleep in a comfortable bed, days that didn’t bring the fear of death with them at every corner… It was a relief to finally have some kind of space to breathe. 

Sapnap looked up again, bringing his hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the glow of the beacon as he walked through the narrow streets when he was stopped, a young child running up to him and wrapping her arms around his legs as tightly as she could.

Sapnap jumped back a little and he could see the girl’s father calling to her, beckoning her back to his side. The girl pulled away, giving Sapnap a toothy grin and speaking sweetly to him.

“Thank you for saving my mummy.” She said before she skipped away from him. Sapnap felt his stomach twist at that, and he blinked until he felt tears falling from his cheeks. He’d felt useless since he’d lost his arm, there was no way of hiding how he felt like a burden to his friends (and George’s suggestion to kill him had only solidified his thinking), but now he felt… _Worthy_ . He _had_ done something good, he had saved lives when he had helped evacuate the village from the Wither’s attack and no matter how he twisted it, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling just a little. 

It gave him the energy he needed to continue his walk back to the church, warmth bubbling in his chest and hope that he would be able to do something to bring Bad back. He felt confident as he walked through the doors of the building, though the chill of the uninsulated, stone structure quickly returned to his bones as he looked down the aisle of the church. 

“Illumina?” He asked, the man standing at the altar in dark blue robes.

“You saved Dream, then?”

“I didn’t… Where _is_ Dream?”

Illumina hesitated at that, his eyebrows furrowing together in concern at his words. “The potion is gone, did you not give it to Dream and leave with him?”

“Dream’s gone--” He whispered, the hope in his mind crushed and the shattered remains jumped on until they were dust. His jaw was slack with shock and he shook his head. “He can’t-- He can’t have gone far, he’s barely alive, he needs to rest!”

“As do you.” Illumina told him, wandering towards him slowly and offering him a hand. “You are in no state to chase after your friend. Fate will lead him to where he must go, and fate will bring him back home.”

“He’s going to die if he’s alone out there! Again! I can’t lose him again, and Bad--”

“Unless you have more Dragon’s breath, there’s no use in making another potion. There’s nothing else that can bring him back and his body will only remain preserved for a few more weeks. After then, even I cannot stop it from beginning to decompose. It may be kinder to him to say goodbye now.”

Sapnap felt his mind crumbling around him and as he took the hand Illumina offered his knees gave way, hitting against the cold stone floor with a crack and causing a dull ache to throb through his legs. He didn’t care, he _couldn’t_ care, everything they’d fought for and everything they’d lost had been for nothing… The hopelessness returned tenfold and he closed his eyes, his shoulders beginning to shake as he let out a sob. 

“What am I supposed to do?” Sapnap asked quietly, shaking his head. “How am I supposed to know what to do next? You said the prophecy involved the four of us, how do I help my friends?”

“What does your heart tell you?” Illumina asked gently, and as Sapnap took in a shaky breath he spoke.

“I need to call home, I need someone else to help me.”

Maybe the prophecy was wrong about who would be remembered, maybe Bad and Dream had never been part of the story. But it wasn’t time to think about that, it was time to let himself rest and wait for someone to join him. Skeppy and a6d would help, he was sure they would know what to do. They _had_ to know what to do.

# # #

The forest around Dream was thick and dark, and he was relieved for the cover it provided. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the world around him as he learned to be alive again, and as his legs grew tired of supporting his body he was in no shortage of trees to lean against until he found the will to go on again. 

His mind was full of so many horrible things, the confusing argument between Sapnap and George that he could hardly believe was real, the confession from George before he had run off into the day, Bad’s body… It weighed on him heavily and lost in the forest he finally felt as if he could begin to process things. 

Firstly, Dream thought about what his friends had done. He had died, and they had immediately put themselves in danger to bring him back despite knowing that if they died too, they wouldn’t respawn. How could they think he was worth such a price? He would _never_ trade their lives for his, but he could understand where their thoughts had come from. If the same thing had happened to any of them he’d have run head first into the Nether and wrestled a Blaze naked while covered in oil if that meant there was a chance he could bring them back to life. So while it hurt to know that they had suffered in his name - that Bad had died and Sapnap had lost his arm - he understood. But he would spend the rest of his life making things right. He needed to find a way to bring Bad back, his mind was already thinking of every possible solution to that, but fixing Sapnap’s arm would be easier. He’d made George goggles to fix his vision before, it would be _different_ to make Sapnap a new arm but not impossible - after all, the pair had spent years playing with redstone in their adolescence. Surely he’d be able to find a way to make that work for good rather than mischief for once.

He then began to think about George, the man that before all this had happened he had begun to realise he had _feelings_ for. George, his best friend, so happy and bright and kind had supposedly killed Bad? It couldn’t have been in cold blood, he couldn’t picture George maliciously turning against his friends and the thought made him feel sick all over again. No, there had to be some kind of explanation, some kind of misunderstanding. Even if George himself had admitted that he’d killed Bad and tried to kill Sapnap, Dream couldn’t believe it until he’d heard the full story. George had been hidden behind a mask - both physically and emotionally - and Dream knew that there had to be more to it than he had seen in the moments since he’d woken up.

It was just a shame that, lost in the middle of a dark forest, he was unable to ask any questions.

He continued to walk through fields of mushrooms and dewy grass, his hands in his pockets as he tried to force himself to walk without supports, but he found himself growing tired as his mind stopped thinking and just focused on the world around him again. He could hear in the distance the crashing of water on rocks and imagined a waterfall, light droplets of water filling the air and fragmenting light until a rainbow shone. Perhaps fish would dart upstream and frogs would hop between rocks and lily pads. Maybe things would be peaceful, maybe a part of the world would be untouched by the horrors that had clearly unfolded in the last week.

While he didn’t walk far enough to find the waterfall itself, he did find a river, and spent several minutes standing on the bank and watching as the water rushed by. It was clear and the stones beneath the water appeared to shimmer in the sun as it refracted between waves. Dream smiled, lowering himself to the ground and pushing his shoes off his feet before dangling his toes into the river. The water was cold and sent a shiver down his spine, the hairs on his arms standing on end while he allowed himself a moment of refreshment and enjoyment. Being _dead_ had left him feeling dirty and tired, and as he leaned forward to fill his hands with water and splash it over his face he felt much more awake and alert. Birds were singing, leaves were rustling, and however horrific the situation he found himself in was, he was _thankful_ to be alive. 

He rested there for a while longer, until the cold water was no longer a relief but a burden, and he looked up at the sky. Though the canopy above him blocked out most of the light he could tell that the sun was past its peak and would soon be setting. He would need to find shelter to keep himself safe overnight, but for now the rumbling of his stomach directed his actions. He needed food, and while he found himself sat beside a river he found an easy solution. 

Looking through the water to spot fish swimming in the shallows, Dream spent a short while trying to catch one with his hand. His reflexes weren’t what they used to be and it took him several attempts to even get close, but after a little over twenty minutes (and one fall that had left him face first in the water) he had managed to catch two small salmon from the river. He laid them on the grassy bank, taking off his hoodie and shirt and placing them on the ground beside the fish as they flopped around. He gathered sticks quickly that had fallen from the trees and built a small pyre, using pebbles from the riverbed to keep everything in place as he rubbed sticks together hurriedly until he saw a spark. It took a little while longer and the air was beginning to chill, but the sticks eventually caught fire and he managed to add some larger pieces of wood to keep it going for longer. He sat close by as he used a particularly pointy rock to remove the scales and bones of the fish, and found a sharp stick to hold them over the fire to cook. As it crackled and the light in the forest began to change he felt himself and his clothes starting to dry off from his adventure in the river. By the time he was picking at the fish (a little overcooked, but preferable to raw) he felt pleasantly warm and could enjoy the sounds of the wildlife around him. He could hear the gentle hum of insects - midges trying to bite at his skin leaving him with no choice but to pull on the still slightly damp clothing to stop himself from itching - birds were nesting for the night and mice were starting to emerge from the undergrowth. When he heard the first hoot of an owl he decided that he needed to make a move before mobs started to appear and attack him while he was defenseless. He extinguished the fire, drank a little fresh water straight from the river, before taking his pointy stick and a pocketful of sharp rocks and searching for somewhere to stay the night.

He wasn’t sure _what_ he was looking for, perhaps a tree whose branches grew in a fashion that would make sleeping a safe endeavour, or a cave he could hide himself away in, but he certainly hadn’t been looking for what he’d found.

He saw the cobblestone walls first, rising just a little above him before they became wooden. At night it was difficult to take in just how large of a structure he’d stumbled upon, the darkness cloaking the end of the building and hiding the entrance just out of his view, but there was no questioning what he’d found. He craned his neck to look up at the windows, straining to see if there was any light emanating from the inside, but aside from the odd glow it was almost completely dark. He wondered if that meant the inhabitants were sleeping - perhaps he would be able to sneak in without being caught and rest somewhere warm and comfortable and take off before he was found in the morning.

But then his mind moved back to his friends, to Bad, and he found himself thinking something very different. 

It wasn’t quite a plan, even Dream couldn’t stretch his thought _that_ far, but he was armed with rocks and a sharp stick, he was more than capable of coming up with a plan using just that. What else was he supposed to do? Walk away when a solution to his problems presented itself? The universe had given him this mansion for a reason, and he wasn’t about to waste it. Neither George, Sapnap nor Bad were around to tell him just how _stupid_ his idea was, so he had no intention of listening to their voices in his head cautioning him against whatever he was thinking of.

With a reckless grin on his face, Dream began to walk quietly around the building. He hugged the walls and remained in the shadows to keep himself hidden from the inhabitants and from the monsters that lurked in the forest, knowing that before long he would be in much more danger (and preferring not to enter the mansion already injured).

As he found a way in he took one of the torches placed on the ground in his left hand, his right reaching into his pocket and grabbing a weighty stone that he could throw at the first sign of danger. At least if he fell at the first hurdle he wouldn’t have risked much to bring his friends home, and no one would know what had happened to him. 

He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before he stepped through the archway and into the unknown. Whatever happened from here on out, it was all for his friends.


	2. A Disguise & A Totem

Dream’s feet landed softly on the carpet of the mansion, muddy footprints trailing behind him as he began to explore. He was on edge as he used the torch to illuminate the corridors in front of him, being careful and slow with his movements so as not to attract attention. He managed to walk quietly, the carpet allowing him to move without the floorboards beneath him creaking, and all he could hear was the quick beating of his heart and his breathing. In the distance he could hear the sound of Illagers patrolling the corridors, though there didn’t seem to be many. Dream kept himself focused on the sounds of their movements to remain undiscovered as he explored.

Mansions were rare - Dream had heard of them but had never seen one in person - and so everything he was working with was based on stories. He knew that they were dangerous places, but the most dangerous places always seemed to hold the biggest rewards. There was nowhere more suitable for his quest to begin. As he brought the torch in front of his face, the glow from the fire warming his skin, he stopped. He could hear footsteps that were nearby, walking against wood rather than carpet, and he focused. One, two, one, two, one, two. 

Two feet, the same rhythm, there was an Illager on its own. In the right circumstances he could take it, and while his exhausted body and lack of weapons didn’t exactly make these the  _ right  _ circumstances, it was certainly worth a shot. 

What did he have to lose?

He closed his eyes to focus on the sound again and could hear a quiet humming, the footsteps stopping the opposite side of the wall he stood beside. With his right hand he shifted the rock he held, finding a better grasp to throw it with, before he took in a deep breath.  _ Now or never _ . 

Dream moved quickly and quietly, rounding the corner with his movements still muffled by the carpet beneath his feet, and he saw the Vindicator looking away from him. Its axe was on his side, not in his hands, and he was distracted. Before he had time to react to the light that had appeared from the hallway, Dream threw the rock as hard as he could. It met the back of the Vindicator’s head with a sickening crack and Dream watched as the man stumbled forwards several steps, his first reaction to reach up behind him and turn around rather than reach for his weapon. Dream couldn’t believe his luck, and as the Vindicator turned to face him he swung the torch toward him. The man stepped back again, the fire helping to put distance between him and Dream, but knowing he was under attack he was now reaching for his axe. As his hands gripped tightly around the base of the weapon to pull it from his side, Dream dropped the torch on the ground to free both of his hands. His brain and body worked together, feet stamping on the smouldering remains to smother the flame and stop the building from catching on fire, and his arms reaching out for the Vindicator's neck.

As his hands managed to wrap around him, the Vindicator raised his axe and brought it down quickly against Dream’s shoulder. Dream felt the weapon lodging itself in his arm, thanking every God imaginable that it had been an incredibly weak hit. The Vindicator had been taken by surprise and hadn’t had time to put any sort of power behind his swing, and that was probably the only reason that Dream still had an arm.

He fought through the pain, ignoring the way his entire arm screamed and begged for relief as he tightened his grip on the Vindicator’s neck, and he raised his leg so that his knee collided with its stomach. 

The sequence of events took place in a matter of seconds, with the fight between them being too intense and short lived for either of them to have time to cry out in pain or for help. The Vindicator was quickly overcome with pain and breathlessness and, considering he was no longer in a position to attack, Dream removed his hands from his neck. He tried not to think as he grabbed the axe with his right hand, though he paled as he heard the squelch of blood and tissue when he removed the instrument from his shoulder.

While the Vindicator was still recovering, Dream wound his arm back before he swung, the axe cutting through his head cleanly and causing it to roll several paces away as blood spurted across the wood room and covered everything in a thin layer of red. 

The monster was dead, and Dream felt his legs buckling beneath him. He had been weak before the fight but now he was even moreso. He let himself sink to the ground and take several slow, deep breaths, before he risked a look at his shoulder.

Thankfully, it was nowhere near as bad as it could have been. The cut was deep, but clean, and clearly hadn’t caught any important nerves in the process. He shifted the way he sat, leaning back against a wall as he pulled his hoodie over his head and rolled up his sleeves to get a better look at the wound on his arm. It was bleeding heavily, and stopping that was the most important thing. He took the clean sleeve from his jumper and tucked it under his arm, using his teeth to hold it at one end while his right hand worked on tying it into a knot as tightly as possible. He could feel the tips of his fingers going numb and tingly and that at least meant he was restricting the circulation in his arm, buying himself enough time to reach toward the Vindicator’s corpse and rip apart the fabric of its trousers. He held the blue cotton against the cut and tried to sit through the pain, closing his eyes and hissing through the worst of it as he soaked up as much blood as possible.

If he’d been found he would have had very little time to defend himself, but he remained alone as he soaked through more and more of the Vindicator’s clothing, before eventually reaching a point where he could comfortably wrap a longer strip of fabric around his arm to cover the wound. When he finished he leaned back, letting his head roll to the side with exhaustion. This was a ridiculous idea, he didn’t even know if there was anything useful  _ in  _ the mansion for him to take on his quest. There was absolutely no way he would be able to take another fight with the Illagers, certainly not one he’d win, and as he breathed heavily he tried to think of another idea.

It took three minutes and forty seven seconds for it to come to him. 

He got to his feet shakily, floorboards squeaking as he shifted his weight from foot to foot and leaned down to unbutton the shirt from the Vindicator. The blood from its beheading had, luckily, travelled onto the walls and floor rather than the body itself, and the shirt remained almost untouched. The dark splotches of blood didn’t draw too much attention to themselves, and Dream added more as his hands touched the fabric. With the bandage on his wound doing most of the work now he removed his hoodie from his shoulder and left it on the ground, slipping into the Vindicator’s shirt and buttoning it up. It was a little big on him, but it was  _ something _ . He knew he didn’t fit the part of a Vindicator but perhaps having this would be enough of a disguise to be ignored if he kept himself quiet and hidden in the shadows.

While the room was still empty he allowed himself to look around for a moment, eyes scanning for anything of use as he brought the axe to his hip and hooked it to his belt. There was a chest in the corner, but it was otherwise empty, and he moved towards it slowly. He was aware of every noise that he made as he moved, wincing as a particularly loud creak eked out of the floor below. The chest itself wasn’t much better, but Dream opened it quickly to try his hardest not to attract any attention.

It was mostly empty - more cobwebs and dust than anything of actual use - but there was a small pouch of emeralds tucked away in one corner and a few condensed bricks of redstone powder. He took the emeralds from the bag and pocketed them, using the cloth to carry the redstone in case the bricks crumbled while he moved them. With the pouch now tied to his belt he moved back to the Vindicator’s body and for a moment considered hiding it in the chest. But the room was dark and it would be unlikely to be found, and if someone stumbled across the blood covered room they’d likely find the body even if it was hidden away in the chest. For now, it would just waste valuable time.

So, filled with no confidence at all, Dream headed out of the room and back into the corridor. It was harder to see without his torch but he couldn’t hear anyone approaching either, so he began to walk. He turned his head left and right as he passed by archways into different rooms, looking for something that could help him in his quest. Surely a building as big as this would have information hidden away somewhere - be it books or paintings or tapestries - something that told a story that brought this community together would have to exist. 

He climbed a staircase to reach the first floor, his feet a little noisier against the cobblestone. The blood and mud on his shoes had flaked off or dried and he was no longer leaving footprints - which certainly helped him to relax a little as he continued to explore. The first floor was much the same as the ground, with long corridors and distant sounds of footsteps to avoid as he walked. It was beginning to get easier to see now - the windows above the leaves of the trees allowing daylight to begin streaming in as the sun started to rise - and he could walk with more confidence. 

He rounded a corner to see three Illagers walking together and talking quietly with each other, their distraction giving him enough time to quickly slip through the first archway he found and into a large room. It took him a moment to realise what he was looking at, but he couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face when he saw the rows of shelves filled to the brim with books, and he jumped at the chance to explore and learn. This was what he needed, this would give him some kind of lead, surely? His fingers brushed against the leather spines of the books, running over the embossed titles and searching for something that looked as if it would give him clues to what he was searching for. Though, he really wasn’t sure _ what _ he was searching for.

The books were, thankfully, written in a language Dream could understand, although they were all written by hand and that made it a little difficult to read the words on some occasions. His fingers flicked through the crumpled paper of several books, but without knowing explicitly what he was looking for it felt like searching for a needle in a haystack. He could sit and read through every book in the room and still be none the wiser as to what could help him.

He was almost ready to give up with this plan before he’d really begun when he saw a selection of papers left out on a desk in the corner, a small glowstone lamp lighting it softly. His curiosity got the better of him, and he decided that one more little look wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

From a distance it was impossible to make out what was on the paper but as he got closer he could see a mixture of writing and diagrams, a chart of stars in the sky with labels pointing out and giving descriptions of the positions. He sat himself at the desk, shifting the papers into a slightly more organised fashion as he began to look through them all. 

The book that the star chart appeared next to was particularly old, and the writing was faded and worn, but he could still make enough of it out to understand. This was a religion, and the religion told a story of death and rebirth, the Universe resetting, living things purged once every hundred thousand years when the stars aligned just right. The book itself contained drawings of the stars, dated in a way that Dream couldn’t understand, but all following the same convention. He looked out of the window as if he could see the night sky for himself, but the sky was filled with red and orange as the sun rose above the horizon and it would be impossible to see where they were. He wondered if the drawing beside him had been taken of the night as it was, or if it was a copy from something in the book.

He didn’t have time to check as he heard footsteps approaching, and instead he grabbed a few sheets of paper that he hadn’t had time to study before quickly scurrying through the room and hiding himself between shelves. As he held his breath and listened closely, he heard the footsteps stop and a light flick off, before hearing the continuation of a muffled conversation. He missed most of it, but picked out on enough words to pique his interest.

The two that stuck in his mind the most were  _ Evoker _ , and  _ Undying _ . The conversation and its participants moved through the room, voices travelling from one side of Dream to the other before leaving from the other end, and Dream let out a breath as he ducked back out from the shelves. He looked down at the papers in his hands, eyes scanning them for information he could use. 

And there it was - the diagram for a  _ Totem of Undying _ . He read through the description as quickly as he could, before pocketing the design and running back to the desk. The book, thankfully, was still there and he decided that he would take that with him as well. Perhaps he would be able to compare the stars during the next night, or maybe he could take it back to the village and someone there would be able to understand the true extent of the words in the book. It could mean anything, but something just told him it was  _ important _ .

Dream was beginning to form a plan, that much was certain, and began to search the upper floors of the mansion for an Evoker. He didn’t know much more about them than he had known about the Vindicators when he’d arrived, though he’d seen them once before in a patrol, and was at least wise enough to know what he was looking for. He still remained quiet as he walked, although it was much more important now to keep his head down to save the other men and women from seeing that he didn’t look like them. At least the blood he’d lost in his previous fight made him paler, and his hands didn’t seem to turn many heads from the people that  _ did  _ walk past him.

He was conscious to move quickly, knowing that before long a body  _ would  _ be found downstairs and he would have to make a quick getaway, and that was when he saw it. 

It was a long room, with light streaming in through the windows the only reason he could see inside. Inside was a cobblestone altar, a vast thing that took up the entire room, decorated with dark banners hanging from the ceiling. Dream could see three Illagers inside and his breath hitched in his throat. He  _ couldn’t  _ take three at once, it would be a death sentence, so he did the only logical thing he could think of.

He reached into his pocket for the stones he still had left, tossing them between his hands for a moment before throwing one into the room. He was careful that it didn’t hit any of the Illagers, but that it landed with a loud enough  _ thud  _ to attract their attention. Before they had the chance to look up he was flat against the wall, listening to their curious and suspicious words.  _ They’d noticed, jackpot _ .

He threw another stone, this time outside the door, and he heard a pair of footsteps walking towards him to investigate the source of the stones. Dream turned and ran quickly, dropping a series of stones for the Illagers to follow and darting in the opposite direction to hide himself, his footsteps hidden by the carpet beneath his feet. He wasn’t sure how much time this would buy him, or if it even would, but it was the only chance he had.

After waiting until the two Vindicators had turned the corner, Dream ran quickly back towards the altar room with his hand reaching immediately for the axe at his side. He could take this thing by surprise and end it quickly - it didn’t need to be a struggle now that he was armed.

But despite his confidence, Dream was met by the Evoker facing him angrily, with three small, flying monsters at his side. He didn’t know what they were, he’d never  _ seen  _ such creatures before, but the looks on their faces and the weapons in their hands told him all he needed to know about them. They were  _ enemies _ . The three flew towards him quickly and he swung with his axe, knocking one back, before dodging the other two quickly. Ducking beneath them and running to the incapacitated mob he brought the axe swinging down onto it swiftly, the blade cutting through its chest and killing the creature. Dream didn’t stop to think as he heard the whistle of a sword cutting through air a fraction closer than he’d have liked, and quickly spun to face the others.

He couldn’t help it - while he fought he examined their wings, his mind trying to figure out how they worked and how best he could defeat them - and this time when he swung his axe he cut the wings off the creatures back, watching it fall to the ground in pain. It wasn’t dead, though Dream could easily kick it aside with his foot. There wasn’t much force behind it, but given the size of the monster compared to him the thing didn’t sit back up again. The creatures were annoying, Dream decided as he narrowly missed the lunge of the third one, but they weren’t difficult to deal with. He had a little more fun with the last one, using his elbow to send the thing flying backwards into the wall before he brought his axe down and put it through the creature and into the wood behind it. As he removed the axe and watched its body fall to the ground he found himself complacent, assuming that fighting the Evoker itself would be just as easy.

Turning to face the man with a cocky grin he jumped. His foot was in pain - why was his foot hurting? The grin quickly gone from his features he looked down and spotted the monster, teeth sunk deep into his legs and still biting down hard, and he let out a cry. It was impossible to keep quiet while his leg was being turned into breakfast and his grip on his axe tightened as he reacted. He swung low, chopping at the creature and being as careful as he could not to cut his own foot off. 

It was quick to retreat back into the ground, but the battle wasn’t over yet. Dream wasn’t laughing anymore as he looked at the Evoker and he growled, watching it smile at his as it prepared to attack again. He didn’t give it a chance, fighting through the throbbing pain in his ankle to move closer to the man as he swung and cut its head off in one clean sweep. He watched it fall, bouncing twice before rolling face down on the ground, and he took in a deep breath. He was safe, but for how long? When would the Vindicators come back and discover what he’d done? He didn’t have time to lose, and hooked the axe back at his side as he started to search the altar for the totem. There weren’t many places to store things which made his search quick, but the heavy footsteps he heard approaching as he grabbed the statue from a small chest terrified him.  _ That was a lot more than two pairs of feet _ .

He couldn’t fight, he had to run, and his body screamed at him to  _ stop  _ and rest like he desperately needed to. His shoulder ached and needed better attention than just fabric wrapped around the cut, and his ankle hurt like hell (he tried to ignore it, but if he looked down he’d see that it too was pooling with blood), but running was his only chance of living. 

_ Left, right, left, right. One, two, one, two.  _ He thought the words in his head with each step, using them to distract him from the pain. Turning to look over his shoulder he saw what could only be described as a horde of Vindicators following him - dozens of angry monsters chasing him with axes and blocking off his way back to the staircase. He looked ahead of him down the corridor and spotted a window, and he groaned quietly. There was only one way out, and he hated having several seconds of warning to think about the decision before going through with it. All he could think of was what Bad would tell him if he was there to watch, the scolding he’d get for even considering it - but then he thought of just how much it would make Sapnap and George laughed and it was a little bit easier to follow through.

He twisted his upper body so it was his right shoulder that hit the window first, the glass shattering as he impacted against it. The speed he’d run at was enough to propel him forwards as he fell, the canopy of the forest breaking his fall: instead of one long fall he was tossed around between branches, back and forth until he fell just a few feet to the ground and landed in a soft patch of grass. It still  _ hurt _ , but it would be nothing more than some light bruising and a sore spot on his back. 

Dream looked up, he could hear the Illagers above him shouting orders, though none thankfully followed his route out of the mansion. They turned and ran away, likely heading down to the ground floor to chase him from the exit, and so with what strength he had left Dream took off deeper into the forest.

Despite it all he smiled and laughed. He’d pocketed a few useful items, had a weapon at his side, information on his hip and a totem in his hand. Maybe this  _ hadn’t  _ been such a stupid plan after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has anyone seen Dream's braincells? No? I didn't think so...


	3. A New Friend & An Old Portal

The smile didn’t leave Dream’s face as he ran, the wind rushing through his hair and adrenaline coursing through his veins as he ducked and weaved through the forest. With each step the sounds of Illagers grew fainter and before long he had lost sight of them through the maze of trees. Once he was certain that he was alone he allowed himself to slow down, taking in deep breaths and bending over to pant with his hands on his knees. He stayed like that for a short moment before sitting down, leaning back against a tree and laughing to himself.

That _shouldn’t_ have been so much fun, but it felt so good to be _alive_.

As he listened to the soft thudding of rabbits feet against the ground he felt the adrenaline that had been keeping him going slowly seep away, and the pain returned to his body in full force. He unbuttoned the Vindicator shirt and shrugged it off his shoulders, placing it beside him before leaning down to look at his ankle. He toed the boot off with his other foot and leaned forward to pull the sock away from his skin, wincing at just how wet it was. It had done a good job of soaking up the blood though, and he could see clearly where each tooth of the creature had bitten him. That was going to be a problem, but he didn’t have a way to fix it now, so he simply took the moment to rest. 

While he did just that he fiddled with the shirt he’d removed, folding it in several places and tying a few knots in the corners to form a makeshift satchel. It certainly wasn’t much, but it would make carrying things he gathered along the way a little bit easier. For now he used it to empty his pockets, filling it with emeralds, redstone, and the little book he’d stolen. 

Dream could have sat for longer, and his body wanted him to, but he was conscious that the Illagers wouldn’t give up _that_ easily - so instead he pulled his boot back on his foot as the wounds stopped bleeding and he scanned the ground for a large stick that would be able to support his weight as he continued on his adventure. He found one with ease in the dense forest and continued to trek onwards, away from the mansion and hopefully towards someplace else that would give him an idea of how to help bring Bad back. 

It took several hours of walking, during which he struggled to ignore the gnawing feeling in his stomach, but the forest eventually began to thin out. For the first time since he’d left the village he’d woken up in he could feel the sun on his skin, unobstructed by glass or by leaves. Shadows danced on the ground as the wind blew and birds flew overhead, but things were finally starting to open out. The space between the trees grew and the trees themselves became lighter, the leaves turning darker, before he was surrounded by birch on all sides. The brighter forest combined with the sun sparkling through the orange and red leaves above gave him another burst of energy that kept him marching on. He approached a lake that shimmered like diamonds and paused, deciding that for now he was far enough away from the Illagers to take a short break. His wounds needed cleaning to keep from getting infected, and his body ached so heavily that a few minutes in the lake would provide the relief he needed to keep going. 

He undressed and left his clothes and bag on the shore to keep dry, before taking a few long strides into the water, plunging himself in chest deep. His teeth chattered and he shivered as the temperature became apparent, but the relief of the cold water washing over him made the entire experience worth it. The bites on his ankle and the axe wound on his shoulder appreciated being cleaned, and his muscles seemed to sing with joy. Dream took in a deep breath and ducked his entire body underwater, laughing as he resurfaced and flicked his hair around. After a moment he closed his eyes and lay back, floating in the water and enjoying the brief moment of peace as he listened to the water splashing into his ear. He felt himself moving with the ripples of the lake, undulating up and down slowly in a way that could have quite easily rocked him to sleep if he let it. He raised his hands up and ran his fingers through his hair, rinsing away the dirt that had built up over the last week. Being dead for such a long period of time was never something he'd expected to do, and he began to swim a lap around the lake to stretch out and strengthen any muscles he hadn't already had a chance to use.

As he swam his mind drifted back to hot summer days spent with Sapnap, laughing and splashing in the ocean together. He remembered swimming with dolphins on one occasion - the creatures all sticking with him and leaving Sapnap sculling for water and calling after Dream. They'd spent the evening lying in the sand and watched the sunset together. They talked about everything - about their hopes and dreams for the future, about their grand adventures and fantasies of love. They'd been so happy.

It felt a million miles away from the world they were in now. But fairy tales weren't supposed to be real.

Dream swam back to shore and clambered out of the water, dripping dry and rubbing at his face before he grabbed his clothes and got dressed once more. Feeling clean felt good, and he felt refreshed as he continued on.

He began gathering sticks from the ground to make into tools he could use to help gather resources, and sand to melt down into glass bottles. If he was going to be out here much longer then he’d need something more than just an axe, and would want armour if he was going to be doing anything particularly daring. Walking around the edge of the lake, Dream kept a close eye on the water to strike whenever he saw fish swimming around in the shallows, trying to collect as much as he could take (without risking carrying around rotting fish). The walk was peaceful and it gave him time to think, his mind unable to keep from wandering back to George.

He’d seen something the last time he’d faced the man, even though he’d remained in the shadows and behind a mask there was something he couldn’t forget no matter how out of it he’d been.

George’s eyes had been glowing _purple_. 

Dream had seen first hand what Sapnap and Bad had sacrificed to bring him back - they had lost limbs and their life - but Dream worried about what had happened to George. His feelings for the man were a closely guarded secret (one that he was sure Sapnap had seen through) and that was why his mind immediately clawed for there to be an explanation for his behaviour. He wouldn’t lash out and hurt his friends, maybe he had lost something of his own. Maybe he’d made a deal and given something of himself to bring Dream back - the thought made his chest ache painfully. When he saw George again he’d tell him how he felt, he’d apologize profusely for whatever had happened while he was dead to hurt him, and he’d never leave his side again.

George needed help, he didn’t need to be driven further away, Dream was certain of that much. He would make sure that the four of them made amends as soon as everything was back to normal. 

His mind turned back to the text he’d read in the mansion, the story of all life being destroyed, and he wondered if there ever _would_ be a time when things would return to normal.

Not wishing to linger on such a depressing topic, Dream busied himself with looking for a cave he could take stones and coal from to set up somewhere to spend the night without fear of being caught. He didn’t have to look far when he started deliberately searching, finding a crater with a cave leading down into the Earth that he could easily scale. 

The drop down was sheer and he was careful as he landed not to hurt his ankle any further than it already had been. But he was immediately rewarded with exposed coal and iron, and could see a gravelly path back up to the surface if he needed to make a quick getaway. For now though the sun was still high in the sky and he could work without fear of an attack, so he began to hum a gentle tune as the wind blew softly and dried his hair, and he chipped away at the resources in front of him.

Time passed relatively quickly, with Dream losing himself in his work and being grateful for something to occupy his mind to keep it from straying from the task at hand. He’d chipped away at a large chunk of exposed iron ore and had set up a crude furnace to smelt it in when he heard something behind him. He turned around, hand moving to the axe at his side as it came closer and closer. He could hear soft footsteps hitting against the ground rhythmically and looked above him, hiding back against the walls of the crater to avoid being seen in case it was an Illager that had found his trail.

A blur of grey and brown fell in front of him and he almost attacked, but before he had a chance to raise his weapon his brain caught up with what his eyes had seen and he softened - the sight of a whimpering wolf calming him down greatly.

The animal was beautiful, with a short haired coat that was a mixture of whites, browns, and blacks and big hazel eyes looking up at him sadly. It took him a moment to realise just why the wolf looked at him that way and when he finally did he kneeled down beside it, offering his hands out in front of him.

“Did you land on your paw?” He asked softly, his voice surprising himself after almost two days without having a conversation. The wolf moved back just a little as he reached out, wary of Dream and his intentions, but it allowed Dream to see that one of its paws was indeed twisted ever so slightly. He didn’t move, letting the animal get comfortable around him at its own pace.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I can help, that was a long fall.”

As if understanding him, the wolf shifted its weight onto its other three paws and whined as it tilted its head towards the injured foot. Dream smiled softly as it began to trust him a little more and he reached into his bag for one of the uncooked fish he’d caught earlier. He saw the creature's eyes light up at that, its mouth opening to reveal a long tongue as it salivated greedily. Dream laid the fish out for it to eat and, when satisfied that it was distracted enough for him to examine its paw, he reached out slowly once more. 

It wasn’t injured too badly, it looked as if it would heal within a couple of days at most, but Dream still took a scrap of fabric from his left sleeve and wrapped it around the wolf’s paw to provide some support and make sure it healed correctly.

“There, all better.” Dream said, smiling kindly at the animal as it stood on its four legs and tested its strength. When he saw it struggling to put too much weight on its injured foot Dream stood up himself, taking his stick and demonstrating the slight limp that he had. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you’ll be fixed soon enough. Go on, find your friends.” He encouraged, turning back around to look back to his furnace. Once the iron had finished melting he could make a shield and a sword, and would venture deeper underground to see what he could find for a journey into the Nether. He chuckled to himself as he considered what Bad, George, or Sapnap might say to his plan, but nothing else had come to him in the hours he’d been walking and he wasn’t about to give up.

As he turned to take a fish from his bag to cook for himself he saw the wolf nosing around, sniffing at it hungrily and looking for more food. 

“There’s plenty out there you can hunt, I’m sure.” Dream said, picking up the bag and holding it out of the wolf’s reach as he went to cook food for himself. The wolf padded along behind him, brushing its snout against the leg of Dream’s jeans curiously and he looked down to the thing with a sigh, shoulders falling. 

“You’re not going to leave my side now, are you? Go on, I’m doing something dangerous, you can’t follow me, you’ll get hurt.”

Even as he spoke the wolf nuzzled closer to him and Dream couldn’t say no any longer, his fingers reaching down to scratch between its ears. The wolf was incredibly soft and as he showed his affection it closed its eyes, rubbing its head against his hand contentedly as he stroked. Dream supposed having a friend wouldn’t be the end of the world, and he pulled the last fish from his bag to let the animal eat again. He might regret that later, but for now he was more than happy to share.

He wouldn’t name it, though. He knew what he was doing was dangerous, and naming things just seemed like another way to hurt himself. 

After he’d eaten his fill he crafted a few tools out of iron, leaving them to cool before scouring through the gravel patch to find some flint he could carry around with him. The sun was beginning to set and while his body ached and cried out for sleep he continued on, gathering his things, creating a small torch, and heading down into the winding caves as the wolf followed close behind.

Despite his initial reluctance to let the animal accompany him he found that it was a good wolf - and had even slipped up a few times and mentally let himself call it a dog. It was a wild animal, not a pet, he had to remember that. But it _did_ keep Skeletons at bay rather successfully, and warned him of approaching monsters as he focused on finding a safe route further into the Earth. He wanted to find diamonds before crossing into the Nether, knowing that it would either allow him to have more powerful tools or decent protection before he risked anything ridiculously stupid. The mansion, he decided, didn’t count.

The cave was steep for the most part and it didn’t take long to descend as far down as it went, even if he spent time carving out a path for him and the dog to take more carefully. It barked and growled as monsters approached, giving Dream enough warning to grab his sword (or his shield, in the event of a creeper) and escape any further injuries to those that he’d already acquired. While he still worked quietly and alone as he searched, he had muttered _we make a good team_ under his breath more times than he wished to admit. As he explored the vast expanse of the underground cavern for diamonds or emeralds, heading ducking to avoid low hanging stalactites, he spotted something that left him curious.

“Stay here.” Dream instructed, holding a hand out behind him to encourage the dog to sit where it was. It turned away from him, keeping watch the way they’d come as Dream rounded the corner of the cave with the torch lighting his way. He had been curious but now frowned, _concerned_ , and felt as though something was _very_ wrong.

An old Nether portal frame. 

It was worn, dull, touched by the hands of time in a way that he’d never seen a portal before. How it had come to be in this place he didn’t know, and the only comfort he found was that it was unlit, it hadn’t been used recently, but _why_ was it here? The unanswered question sat uncomfortably in his stomach but still he took the flint from his pocket, resting the torch against the obsidian frame while he reached for iron to ignite the portal. As he clicked the two together and waited for a spark he worried about what could be on the other side. He’d never seen anything in the Nether to suggest that something had crossed over in reverse, and so an ancient portal in the Overworld left him wondering if long ago, some other people had crossed through on a similar journey to him. He didn’t know how quickly obsidian eroded away but part of him wondered if the time it took would match up with how often the Universe reset itself.

It was a thought that had him on edge, it made him nervous, and as the portal burst to life with a purple glow he jumped. The dog began to bark, running towards him quickly as he reached for the torch and it looked at the portal angrily.

“Hey, it’s alright, don’t yell.” Dream said gently, walking to the dog’s side and scratching its ears to help calm it down. “Just a portal, there’s nothing scary about it. The scary stuff’s on the other side.” He said, but the dog continued to whine. It clearly wasn’t happy about what lay in front of it and Dream wasn’t sure what more he could do to comfort it.

“I’ll be back soon, promise. You’ve got to stay here where it’s safe though. I have to have my friend to come back to alright?”

Despite his earlier promise to himself that he wouldn’t get attached, Dream knew it had already happened. There was a weight in his chest that would feel guilty if he left the dog alone in the dark, and so he made several more torches and placed them on walls in the cave just to provide a little bit more light. The dog followed him around like a shadow as he did so, looking up at him with eyes that begged him to say - it was almost as if it knew the dangers of travelling into the Nether without any armour. 

“I’ll be alright, I promise.” He assured the dog once more, crouching down before it. He felt it lick his face excitedly, its hind legs pushing it upwards and its front paws resting on his shoulder to let it lean in closer. Dream laughed softly, ruffling its fur and bringing his arms around it to squeeze it in a gentle hug. He hadn’t realised just how much he needed one, but he wasn’t about to admit to anyone that he’d shed a little tear at the moment.

“Go on, rest that paw of yours and I’ll be back before you know it. I’ve done this plenty of times before, I know what I’m doing.”

As the dog backed down again he smiled, straightening himself and wandering back towards the portal. It imposed on the world ominously - there was no water or lava to be seen and it very obviously wasn’t meant to be here - but knowing that he had to come back to his new friend gave him hope that he’d make it out just fine. Of course, he knew that he would have done the same for Bad, George, and Sapnap, but having something beside him that was waiting for him to come back made that determination just a little bit stronger.

He took stock of everything he had - his shield, sword, axe and pick, and a half full bag at his side with emeralds and redstone in. Diamonds be damned, he was going to go in without any armour. He knew what he needed to get, and knew how he was going to do it, he just had to hope he didn’t step out in front of a hoard of angry Pigmen.

Crossing his fingers and taking in a deep breath, Dream closed his eyes and stepped through the portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream has a friend! a friend he's trying not to get attached to but he's already given up with "wolf" and moved on to "dog" - it won't be long before he goes from "it" to "he", and from "he" to a name :)


	4. Potions & Power

The heat was the first thing to hit him. The familiar, overbearing heat of the Nether that almost felt comforting. This was his element, he understood and knew what he was doing here, and he could bask in the knowledge that he was safe and skilled enough to deal with anything that came his way. So many times he’d run through the Nether before - with or without armour - and had gotten what he’d needed without so much as singeing the tips of his hair. Stepping out of the portal and swaying just a little as nausea took hold of him, he grabbed instinctively for his pick and let his eyes scan the surroundings quickly.  _ Glowstone,  _ that was the first thing he needed, then he could work on finding a Nether Fortress and go from there.

He’d spawned within a ravine and cursed his luck, but given the circumstances he’d found the portal in he was relieved that he hadn’t landed in the heart of a Fortress with an army of Wither Skeletons or Pigmen standing over him - there could have been  _ much  _ worse fates. He leaned back and craned his neck to look at the sky of the world, the unbreakable barrier between the Nether and the void, but saw nothing. It at least saved him impulsively trying to scale the walls of the ravine to retrieve Glowstone (which he knew he would have done without a second thought, no matter the risks). Instead he was faced with the problem of which way to go - which way would lead him to an open landscape first? Where was the nearest Fortress? 

As he paced up and down the empty ravine, ignoring the delicate quartz spikes and their beauty, he stumbled upon something that shouldn’t have surprised him.

A path through the cliffs.

Dream frowned, a hand reaching out cautiously to touch the rock as if it could hurt him, when in reality he knew that it was the same old netherrack he had seen countless times before. It felt strange knowing someone else had already been here, he almost felt as if he were walking into a trap, but Dream placed his faith into this ancient stranger that was guiding him and put one foot in front of the other as he began his steady ascent.

The climb was easy, his feet finding plenty of stable ground to traverse, and he very rarely found that he was scrambling to pull himself up. However old this path was, it worked just as well as it had done all those years ago. Before he knew it, he reached the top of the ravine and could look back down to see the portal humming with life at the bottom. It would be difficult to lose where he’d come from, but the descent would be trickier. He’d be tired, he might be chased, and he could be injured, so he made a mental note of the route he’d taken and tried to log it in his brain for safe keeping. Hopefully that would save him from having to work out a new path on his way down.

Looking at the new landscape he found himself in, Dream smiled. The roof of the cavern was low and he could almost reach up and touch it with his hand, but what he needed was right in front of him. Glowstone. And plenty of it. It would be easy to get carried away with gathering more than he needed but he knew exactly how much to take, and set about collecting it quickly. 

Filling one of the bottles he’d made with glowstone powder so it didn’t spill in his satchel, Dream decided it would be enough for what he needed. The redstone bricks would be much more important in helping to protect himself for longer, but a bit of stronger protection if he was in danger would go a long way. Now it was simply a question of finding a Fortress, getting what he needed for his potions, before running in to fight the Blaze without a fear in the world. Ghast tears would be helpful too, if he could find one. If the Totem of Undying didn’t work like he anticipated it would, it would be useful to have a way to heal himself without being near a beacon. Slipping the bottle of powder back into his bag he began to walk straight ahead - the only option he had with walls of the cavern either side of him. He just had to hope that at some point the ground dipped or the ceiling raised and opened out a little more.

As he walked, his mind thought back to his friends and he wondered what their journey to the Nether had been like. Awful, he assumed from the looks of them, and that terrified him. He loved nothing more than to tease them, but they were by no means  _ idiots _ \- they knew plenty about what they did, they knew the risks that came with the Nether, he wondered if something else had happened? Had the world become more dangerous on top of death becoming a permanent feature, or had their guard been down? Was worrying about them going to cost him something of his own in due course? No, he could focus on himself when he needed to. He’d conquered the Nether so many times before that he almost assumed he could do it with his eyes closed, but he wasn’t going to push his luck today. He’d already been incredibly lucky.

Good or bad luck, he hadn’t quite decided yet.

The walk through the cavern seemed to last for hours, and he wondered if time in the Nether warped just as much as distance did, but eventually the world before him was no longer a red fog. Instead his view opened out, giving way to spires of quartz that towered dozens of feet above his head and plunged down beneath him into valleys of netherrack and soul sand, and it was beautiful. There was no denying just how outrageously  _ alluring  _ the landscape around him was. He could have stopped and stared for hours, appreciating just what the Universe was capable of creating, but he had important work to do.

He neared the edge of the cavern and began to look out into the horizon for any sign of a Fortress, but there was nothing. Dream sighed, bringing a hand to his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. It would be so easy to give up, to let himself  _ feel  _ defeated and deflated and just stop trying, but Bad deserved him trying. He could  _ never  _ give up on one of his best friends like that. He’d never be able to face himself again if this was all it took for him to stop trying to bring Bad home. So he let himself take a moment, he took in a deep breath and yawned and stretched, rubbing at his eyes before starting to trek once more.

Dream knew that cutting across the soul sand  _ looked  _ quicker, but would be infinitely slower in practice, and so he followed a path around the field that hugged the walls of the world. It was well trodden - or at least had been carved and eroded to appear that way - and as he moved along with one hand on the wall to help keep his balance, he felt a change in the texture and noticed something. 

Turning his head to the side he stopped, looking at the spot where netherrack gave way to purple brick and letting his lips form a small “oh” as he realised where he was. He looked up to see the bricks stretching high above him, stacked on top of each other for what felt like hundreds of meters. Now at least he realised why he hadn’t seen the Fortress anywhere - it was buried inside the mountain and hidden from the world. Smiling to himself just a little he reached for his pick before starting to rhythmically work his way up the structure.

A little over twelve minutes later, Dream stood on the ledge of the Fortress and looked inside. His body was exhausted and he took time to catch his breath - he’d attempted to free climb but when he’d realised just how far he had to go he found an alcove dug into the rock so he could rest and continue his climb without falling. Once he was ready to journey once more, and was certain there was nothing on the other side of the wall waiting to attack him, he broke through the bricks and jumped down into the corridor. His feet met the ground with a satisfying thud and he drew his sword, closing his eyes and listening carefully. The plan was simple from here - Blaze, Magma Cubes, and nether wart needed to be found, then he could retreat temporarily to make himself a series of potions that would help him fight without any armour. Sure he had the Totem of Undying, but he didn’t want to use that unless it was absolutely necessary. He had half of a plan and if he lost the Totem then he’d be back to square one with his attempt.

Wandering through the corridors slowly, Dream elected to hide from passing Wither Skeletons rather than engage or run from them. Normally he’d have run without a care in the world, but right now that sounded like a bad idea even to him. He descended a staircase and found a patch of nether warts growing, collecting them by the dozen and shoving them into his bag. It was starting to get full and he’d need to replace it or craft another soon enough, but that was a problem for his return to the Overworld. For now he focused on the familiar squelching sound of a group of Magma Cubes and tried, mentally, to figure out the size of them from the noises they made. It didn’t work as well as he’d hoped it might, with the sounds all merging together, so he decided on this occasion to cross his fingers and hope for the best.

He turned the corner with his shield tightly in his hand and his sword raised above his head to fight. He saw three monsters of varying sizes before him, one standing taller than him and two much smaller. To avoid being overwhelmed he quickly lured the smaller Magma Cubes away, slicing them in half and in half again until they lost their sentience and were unable to attack in return, before he turned to face the large Cube standing before him. He calculated mentally how many hits it would take to render it completely helpless, and he didn’t like the answer that he found. He would be surrounded on all sides and engulfed before he could do anything to protect himself, so instead of engaging he sheathed his sword and gathered what remnants of the Magma Cubes he’d already cut up he could, adding them to his satchel and turning to make a run for it. He could hear the last Cube jumping to keep up with him, so he twisted and turned as much as he could through the maze of corridors. They were dangerous, but they weren’t smart, and he could use that to his advantage. 

As he ran he kept an eye out for stray Blazes - one or two on their own would be perfect for what he needed right now. He had a near miss with a Wither Skeleton, barely even seeing it until it was almost too late and ducking under the swing of its sword at the last second. He was lucky to escape unscathed and as soon as he found himself in an empty corridor he stopped to take stock. Breathing heavily, he spotted a chest and curiously approached it, unhooking the latch and pushing it open without waiting to think the idea through.

He spotted the redstone wire connected to the lock as soon as he’d opened it, and heard the hiss a second later. Dream stumbled backwards, scrambling for his shield to hide behind in the brief moments he had before the explosion hit. 

He was pushed backwards with the full force of the blast, head hitting the ground as the rest of his body landed and skidded across the brick floor. He groaned at the pain that jolted through him and closed his eyes for a moment, lying flat on the ground before assessing if any damage had been done. Despite being rocked and his ears ringing, his pain was superficial so he got to his feet slowly. At first his surroundings seemed to move and he swayed on his feet, but he blinked the dizziness away until he felt confident enough to process what had happened. 

There was a hole in the corridor now, gaping wide and separating him from the other side of the Fortress. The chest had been booby trapped, and despite everything he leapt to conclusions.

_ Had it been placed there specifically to injure him?  _

It couldn’t have been, the portal in the Overworld had been thousands of years old at least, if not more, no one could have set a trap for him that long before he even existed. 

He didn’t want to let his mind cling to the worries that this was all some elaborate scheme or trap, so he forced himself to continue on the only way he could. He would find a Blaze and he would kill it, he would make his potions, he would get what he needed and return to the Overworld to continue his quest to bring Bad back. His free hand grabbed his sword once more, tightening around the hilt with all his strength as he sought to keep his feelings in check. Find a Blaze and kill it, that was what he needed to focus on doing right now. He bit the inside of his cheek gently to help ground himself as he stalked through the corridors until he heard the familiar wheezing that meant a Blaze was nearby.

Thankfully, with the Fortress being buried in netherrack, he had no worries of the Blaze flying away, or of the corpse falling into pits of lava. It would make his pursuit a lot more convenient. He was disappointed when he turned the corner to find the Blaze he’d heard was near the spawner, but he managed to catch its attention before any more spawned. As he lured it away he kept an eye out over his shoulder, not wanting to be caught off guard by any other approaching monsters. He dodged the fireballs it spat at him, making his move to swing his sword through its body and taking care to avoid damaging the rods. Two quick hits were enough to kill it, and he gathered what he could from the creature’s corpse.

With the rods in hand he retreated, away from the spawner to find somewhere safe and protected he could begin to brew potions in to help with his assault. He reached a junction in the corridors with only two ways to go - one led towards a group of Wither Skeletons and another was empty. It seemed only logical which way he would go, really. 

The safer route soon led to a dead end and Dream was somewhat relieved that he would only have to keep watch from one direction while he worked, although he  _ did  _ worry that if he was overwhelmed, he wouldn’t have an escape. 

He supposed he better make it quick.

The end of the corridor had a chest that, despite Dream being able to see  _ wasn’t  _ connected to any redstone, he avoided. He instead placed down his bag, taking out the ingredients he’d gathered and beginning to look through them. Glowstone, redstone, blaze rods and powder, nether warts…

_ Shit _ .

Dream brought a hand to his forehead as he realised what he’d forgotten.  _ Water _ . He had no base for the potions. How the hell had he been so stupid? How could he have forgotten something as simple as  _ water?  _

He looked at the ingredients laid out before him and thought of how dangerous this would be without any protection. He had no armour, no one to watch his back, and he was already somewhat injured. He knew he  _ could  _ do it, but it was really a question of whether or not he wanted to do it. Was it sensible to even try? Luck played such a massive role in getting through the Nether, and without the ability to respawn or heal at an accelerated rate everything was much more risky. Should he return to the Overworld and come back with better equipment to try again later?

He still had the Totem of Undying. He didn’t want to use it, but if he had to…

Dream wasn’t about to leave the Nether, not after he’d already come this far, and so he packed his satchel once more and swung it back over his shoulder before he got to his feet and prepared to march back to the spawner to fight the Blaze. He only  _ needed  _ 6 rods, as long as he took 6 he, theoretically, would be in the clear.

He looked back down the corridor but before he could leave, curiosity had gotten the better of him and he found himself looking back to the chest. There was no redstone, no trap, nothing to suggest that he was in danger if he opened it. So he reached into his bag with one hand and wrapped his fingers around the Totem of Undying before he used his other hand to open the chest. This time, instead of the hiss of TNT and the terror of an explosion, he was met with a sparkling chest filled with loot.

It was too good to be true, he knew that.

Before even daring to touch the potions or the chestplate, his eyes lay on a small note that was written by hand. He picked it up slowly, glancing over his shoulder to ensure he had enough time to process whatever it said.

_ ‘This is for you, traitor.’ _

Dream blinked at the wording, and suddenly everything that led him here no longer felt like a coincidence. But traitor? What did the note mean? He didn’t understand where to begin with the number of questions in his mind, but decided for now to push them away. The chest was filled with potions and a diamond chestplate, and there was no circumstance during which he could turn those down. Crunching up the note and shoving it deep into his pocket to be forgotten, he slipped into the chestplate and drank the potions he could identify - strength and fire resistance - before grabbing his sword once more and beginning to make his way through the Fortress and back to the spawner without a fear in his mind. He could take these Blazes now, he would barely even notice them.

He retraced his steps quickly, a burst of energy in his movements as he practically skipped towards the spawner with a murderous smile on his face. He could do this, he could bring back Bad, and he would  _ not  _ become a traitor to do so. 

As he arrived back at the spawner he approached without his shield, his sword in one hand and his axe in another to cut through the creatures around him twice as quickly, to make himself even more deadly than he already was. At first, the Blazes saw no difference in the cocky young man and began to fire at him, but as he took the hits without any kind of flinch panic grew in their faces. They might not have been human, but Dream could see in their eyes that they knew what fear was in that moment. 

When he swung his axe through the first he heard it wheeze in pain, the damage he dealt more than usual, and as it lay barely alive on the floor he ripped a rod from it. He didn’t particularly care if the creatures lived or died, he cared about getting the rods from them and getting out as soon as he could.

More Blazes spawned behind him and he realised that it might be worth hurrying up a little to get what he needed, rather than savouring every swing and the power he felt behind it, so he did just that. His emotions that he tried to bury still came out with each hit, but he was much quicker to swing again and again until he found himself standing alone. His heavy breathing was all that could be heard, blood rushing through his veins as his heart raced and he took in the corpses around him. There had to have been at least a dozen dead Blaze at his feet, and he took a brief opportunity to wipe the sweat from his brow before working methodically through their bodies to take as many rods as he could carry.

It turned out that fifteen was all that fit in his bag, but he could have taken more if he was able to carry them. It was more than enough to get him to the End, and he could make potions as soon as he returned to the Overworld. For the first time, he found himself with a semblance of belief that his plan  _ could work _ . 

Dream heard the spawner behind him come to life once more but didn’t waste another second standing there. The effect of the potion would weaken over time and eventually wear off, and he didn’t want to be mid combat when that happened. He brought two fingers to his forehead in mock salute before running away as fast as his tired legs would carry him. He ran through corridors without stopping to think, barely looking twice as he turned corners and sprinted to find a way back out. He knew that the way he’d come in had been separated by an explosion, and so he simply looked for somewhere he could safely climb back down to the ground from that wasn’t directly above soul sand. With how fast he ran, it didn’t take long, and though he was further from the portal than when he’d entered it was good enough for him. He looked both ways as he grabbed his pickaxe, hitting through the brick wall of the Fortress to break out, before starting to mine the ground beneath his feet to descend as quickly as possible. 

The Overworld was calling his name, and he couldn’t wait to return.

If the walk to find the Fortress had felt like it had taken hours, the journey back was like a lifetime. Every step felt harder than the last and by the time he could see the ravine he’d climbed out of on the horizon he was ready to just lie down on the ground and sleep where he was. Except sleeping in the Nether wasn’t something that ever went well, so he continued to push on. He’d find somewhere safe to sleep when he returned, he didn’t have too much further to go. If he just kept going, he’d be back in no time.

The climb down was as precarious as he’d worried it would be, but Dream was relieved that nothing was chasing him and that he had time to find his way down without losing his footing or slipping. He used his pickaxe to help keep his balance when his feet and hands didn’t feel like they could hold onto the rock face tightly enough. It was a long and arduous journey, but he eventually found himself at the bottom of the ravine. 

The portal had been turned off.

He stood staring at the obsidian frame for longer than he realised, the seconds stretching into minutes hurriedly as he tried to process what he was looking at.

The ravine was entirely closed off - there was nothing that could have destroyed the portal, which meant that the damage had to have been done by someone else. Perhaps the person that had hooked the TNT up to a chest, or the person that had left behind the armour, but why would they be trying equally hard to kill and to protect him? He didn’t understand. 

Maybe he was just imagining it all. Maybe he was still dead, maybe this was all just a figment of his imagination and his brain was trying desperately to keep him from going insane in the limbo he rested in, waiting for his friends to save him.

He decided that spiralling down that train of thought would be  _ awful _ , and so he took the iron and flint from his pocket and relit the portal, stepping through as quickly as he could rather than spending any more time in the Nether.

To Dream’s surprise, when he reappeared in the Overworld he stood in the same cavern he’d left. He had expected some kind of trap, perhaps to have been left to burn in a volcano or stranded alone in a frozen wasteland. To return to where he’d left - with torches still gently burning and no mobs in sight - was a pleasant result.

Then he felt himself falling backwards, paws resting against his chest and pinning him to the ground as his new friend excitedly welcomed him home. The dog marked his arrival with glee, his eyes sparkling and his tongue lapping at his face.

“Hey, c’mon!” Dream laughed, all his worries from the Nether falling from his shoulders in an instant. He might have left with more questions than he’d entered, but nothing could shatter the happiness he felt right now. “I missed you too buddy, I told you I’d come back!” He said, his hands moving to ruffle the dogs fur before pulling the animal into a hug. The dog jumped away from him after a moment, barking cheerfully and beginning to pace around in circles as he chased his tail, and Dream couldn’t help feeling so happy. 

“We’re gonna head back up to the surface okay? Let’s see about finding us some breakfast, I know I’ve worked up an appetite.”

The dog barked again and Dream smiled, moving to grab one of the torches from the walls of the cave. Before he began to lead their ascent back towards the surface he picked up a small rock from the ground, throwing it as hard as he could towards the Nether portal and shattering the purple light into a thousand tiny pieces. The dog didn’t realise what he was doing and simply ran after the rock happily, picking it up from the ground and leaving Dream laughing once more. 

“You’re such an idiot, George.” He said, the name leaving his lips without hesitation.

His smile faded as he realised what he’d done.  _ George.  _ He missed George more than he wanted to admit, and the feelings he’d had were beginning to rise once more with a bitter aftertaste. He regretted never mentioning it to the older man, even if George had rejected him at least he’d have known. Maybe he wouldn’t be wandering around a world with no way to get back to his friends in the hopes that he could fix everything that was wrong. His heart ached for the opportunity to see him smile or hear him laugh one more time, and he realised that he never should have taken any of his friendships for granted. He’d never truly appreciated how quickly everything could slip through his fingers and disappear. With a sad look in his eyes he looked back at the dog and sighed. He supposed the name would stick.

“Come on then, George.” Dream said with a faint smile, patting his leg to encourage the dog over to him. Maybe he could get used to this after all.

He began to walk through the dark cavern once more, finding the route down they’d taken together and climbing up slowly. He could see daylight shining down from above and knew that it wouldn’t be too long before they emerged onto the surface once more. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be long until he saw the real George too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey dream if you're reading this there's no smut sorry B)


	5. An Attack & A Reunion

Feeling the sunshine on his back as he emerged from the cave, Dream smiled. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head and felt his muscles aching from over exhaustion. He’d sleep tonight, that much he promised himself, but for now he would keep going. He needed to make ground between here and a Stronghold eventually, anyway. While he didn’t have an Eye of Ender just yet it would be worth continuing to walk in the direction he’d been heading - away from the mansion and the village his friends had been in - eventually he would find something.

With George the dog hot on his heels, bounding up the gravelly slope like his paw was completely fixed - Dream reached into his bag and pulled out the empty bottles. He might not have needed to make potions now, but he’d get the water before he had the chance to forget about it again. He still couldn’t quite believe that he’d been so stupid in forgetting it, and  _ definitely  _ couldn’t believe that he had found a chest full of treasure in the Nether. As he began to walk through the grassy knolls of the birch forest he thought back to the note he’d found.

_ Traitor. _

Had the chestplate and potions been meant for him? Was  _ he  _ the traitor? And if that was the case, who was he betraying? He had too many questions without any context - though somehow he imagined that even if he  _ hadn’t  _ been dead for the last week he wouldn’t have much more to go by. If they weren’t meant for him, who were they meant for? Maybe the ancient stranger that had carved out the path he’d followed had been caught in a trap and hadn’t survived like he had - maybe those traps and the chest had been left for them. But it still didn’t make sense that there were things to both kill and protect the person in question. He wasn’t sure he was going to find an answer for this walking around in the forest with his companion, perhaps the book he’d stolen would have some answers. 

It would make for some good  _ bedtime reading _ , that was certain.

Dream filled the bottles with water as they passed by a small stream, following it through the thinning out forest and watching as George jumped into the water to catch fish for himself to eat. Dream was hungry too, but didn’t want to risk eating raw fish and didn’t want to stop to start a fire and cook. He could still keep going, and that was enough for him.

The walk was relaxing. There was a gentle breeze, though the wind had a certain chill with it that told him winter was following soon. He watched as leaves were pulled from their homes on the trees and flew away, those that littered the ground crunching beneath his feet as he walked. It didn’t feel like a world that had changed from before he’d died, though he knew it had. Everything else seemed completely normal, the forest the same kind of forest he would have run with Sapnap and George in. He could still remember the night before the hunt began - George and Sapnap wrestling as they ran down a hill, Bad laughing at them all as they drank their drinks in the pub and whiled the hours away in the warmth of each other's company.

Having his arm tossed gently over George’s shoulder seemed like a lifetime ago, it  _ was  _ technically a lifetime ago, but he would do anything to get it back again.

The sun had lost its summer heat as it rose in the sky and even as it peaked high above him, Dream could still feel a chill in the air. He decided then that it would be impossible to go on much further without stopping to eat, and so as the trees gave way to open plains and animals littered the horizon he grabbed a few more sticks from the ground and took his sword from his side to make himself lunch. 

He didn’t waste the animal he killed, giving some of the raw meat to George as he sat beside him happily while Dream cooked several steaks, and he ate one gratefully and tucked the others into his bag. It wasn’t exactly the most hygienic way of carrying things, but for now it would do: he could worry about preserving things properly when he wasn’t trying to bring someone back from the dead. Dream spent a little while longer than he’d anticipated sitting by the fire, just enjoying the chance to take a well deserved break, and entertained the dog by throwing a stick back and forth for some time. Still, he acknowledged that this wasn’t the best place to spend the night, and so he eventually forced himself back to his feet and started to walk once more. His legs truly were aching now, and all he wanted was one good night’s sleep. 

The plains were even for most of the afternoon’s walk, but a small hill he had seen on the horizon soon came much closer and Dream found himself walking slowly up it. He was glad for George’s energy, it was almost infectious and spurred him on as the sun began to sink in the sky. He wondered just how much daylight he would have left and when he should start looking for shelter, but as he reached the summit of the hill he stopped - he could finally see the other side.

In the distance, a jungle, but before that a village. It was still miles away, and at the rate Dream was going he knew it would be a few more hours walk, but he had emeralds in his pocket he could trade with and the thought of a comfortable bed was suddenly in his grasp once more. Night may fall before he arrived, but the idea of lying safely in bed was far more appealing than the cold stone floor of a cave, and so Dream found the last bit of energy he needed to push his aching muscles once more. 

Downhill was faster, it was easier on his legs and he gained enough momentum to keep up a good pace as the ground began to level out once more. The field undulated beneath him but it wasn’t noticeable and he began to whistle to himself as he walked, keeping himself company as the sky faded from a clear blue into the familiar yellows, oranges and reds of sunset. He squinted as he walked into the sun, watching it set behind the rainforest in a way that could’ve been quite beautiful if it wasn’t for how desperately he wanted to get to the village and rest. 

George seemed to be getting tired too, and Dream stopped for a moment to reach into his bag and take a sip of water - offering some to the dog as he sat beside him. The light of the village was now so close he could almost feel the soft bed sheets wrapping around his body and hugging him close for the night: he wasn’t about to stop now. As quickly as the sunset had begun, it drew to a close and the world was covered in the dark blanket of night. He patted his hands against his thighs to encourage George to stand back up again. 

“We’re almost there, come on.” Dream coaxed gently. For a moment all was peaceful, and then an ear piercing shriek came from above and it was  _ very much not.  _

Dream looked up quickly, his eyes scanning the sky to search for what had made the noise although his mind had already put the pieces together. He’d not been sleeping, it was night, nothing good happened with that combination. His hand moved to his side and reached for his sword as he managed to catch a glimpse of the beast circling above him. Or, to be more accurate,  _ beasts _ . Dream could see three pairs of wings flapping against the black sky and he swore under his breath - he couldn’t lead them towards the village, he’d have to deal with them himself and make a run for safety as soon as he could. One thing was for certain, tonight he would sleep.

As the first Phantom began to dive towards him, the telltale green eyes soaring closer with every passing second, he grabbed for his shield and held his sword up to cut. A few well placed hits would kill the creature, he just had to hope they didn’t all decide to attack at once.

He missed his first swing, timing it poorly and striking just before the Phantom flew past him. He had enough time to duck behind his shield and heard one of its wings strike the wood, before it flapped hard and it flew high back into the sky. A second Phantom dipped down towards him but this time his sword met it. The metal pierced its scales, sharp tip cutting through its stomach and into its organs. He saw blood spilling onto the ground beside him and heard it scream - flying away from him rather than up. It was injured, and its friends saw that as they both attacked him at the same time. Dream chose to duck behind his shield and hide rather than attack, and it proved to be a wise move. The two let out shrill screams beside him that left his ears ringing but he forced himself to continue to fight, looking around him to see which creature was attacking next.

The weakened Phantom was coming back for a second strike and Dream faced it confidently. It was flying slower due to its injuries and that gave him more time to prepare - so when it flew past him he had more time to swing his sword and decapitate it. He watched as it’s head separated from its body and the two parts hit the ground a short distance away, rolling to a halt. Dream tightened his hold on his sword as he looked back to the sky, watching the eyes move around above him in patterns he didn’t quite understand. He wondered if they were communicating with each other, planning and plotting a way to fight more effectively, and as they dived at the same time once more Dream decided that he’d been correct in his thinking. Their coordinated attacks were making it difficult for him to make any sort of progress and the longer he remained out and fighting while he was exhausted, the worse it would get for him. 

He didn’t put up his shield this time. As the two creatures flew towards him he looked at the monster on the right, aiming his sword carefully and bracing. 

Dream swung down towards it, feeling the resistance of the Phantom as the blade went through its chest. He must’ve struck something important because it immediately fell to the ground. The other Phantom had a chance to attack, and as it sunk its teeth into Dream’s left arm on the way past he let out a painful cry. He’d been expecting it, and it was a sacrifice that he’d needed to make, there would’ve been no other way to kill them both on his own. 

As it ascended once more he took a moment to look at his arm. Skin had been ripped off but the bleeding was shallow - he could worry about it later. For now he simply readied himself for the fight with the last Phantom, listening as it flapped its wings and circled him like his prey. But he wouldn’t be prey - this world underestimated just how determined he was to get his friends back.

It dived towards him fiercely, letting out a cry as it sped straight at him. Clearly it had no intentions of flying either side of him and giving him a chance to swipe it with his sword, it wanted to spar head on, and Dream wouldn’t back down from that fight. He dropped his shield to free up his left hand, taking in a deep breath and preparing himself for the worst. As it hurtled towards him along the ground he began to run towards it, watching it closely and counting down the seconds until he needed to act. It was low, he only had one shot at this.

Three,  _ two,  _ **_one._ **

Dream let his legs buckle beneath him and his body dropped to the ground, sliding along the grass with his sword pointed up into the air and held with both hands as he skidded. The Phantom didn’t have time to adjust its track and flew straight into his sword, the monster cutting directly down the middle and splitting in two. Momentum carried it forwards and it fell to the ground a few paces away, and the world was quiet again.

With a groan, Dream got to his feet and brushed himself down. His body ached, his arm was sore and the wound would need cleaning to avoid infection, but he was so close to the village - so close to safety - and he didn’t waste a moment. He grabbed his shield and began to run, George hot on his heels as he tried to make it to the village before anything else could catch him off guard.

The feeling of cobblestone beneath his feet was a relief he never thought he’d experience again, and as glowstone lamps shone down from above Dream felt safe. He looked a mess, he knew that, but he didn’t think twice about the looks he was given from the people of the village as he tried to find somewhere that could offer a place to stay.

He found a small inn opposite a blacksmith and headed inside to pay for a room. He decided he would stay for two nights - it would give him a day in the village to buy food, to trade for ender pearls and armour, and some time to read the book from the Illagers. As soon as he’d handed over his emeralds he headed for his room, letting himself in and forcing himself not to collapse onto the bed immediately. If he did that, he’d never stand up again before morning, and he needed to care for his wounds before anything else. 

Dream took one of the water bottles from his bag and poured it over his arm in the small washroom that adjoined to his own, hissing and biting down on his bottom lip at the stinging sensation he felt. Still, it was better than what it could have been, so he tried to keep himself focused on that. He was still alive, one step closer to saving his friend, and as he gently dabbed his arm dry he was one step closer to going to bed. He toed his boots off his feet and removed his diamond chestplate, George having already nestled himself comfortably beside the window and fallen asleep without a second thought. Dream smiled down at him as he clambered into bed himself, his body almost melting at the feeling of a soft mattress beneath his back, and he clicked off the glowstone lamp beside him to get a much needed night of rest.

# # #

When Dream eventually awoke to the sun streaming through the window of his room he groaned, rolling over and feeling his body still aching from the efforts of the days before. He forced himself to sit up, rubbing at his eyes and looking down at George. The dog had nosed his way into Dream’s bag and pulled out one of the cooked steaks for his own breakfast, and Dream couldn’t find it in himself to be mad. He’d looted more than enough emeralds from the Illagers to buy himself some proper food - and a hot breakfast sounded better than anything else in the world right now. 

He leaned over to grab his bag from the floor, taking out the little book he’d stolen and the pouch of emeralds. If he needed anything else he could return to the inn to collect it during the day. He was intending on taking things slowly and leisurely, to regain his strength before continuing to journey on. And if it turned out that his plan wasn’t going to work in the slightest, then he could stay a while longer as he brainstormed. Nothing had to be done quickly today.

He freshened up just a little in the washroom, cleaning dirt and blood from his face that he’d neglected to clean the night before, and he slipped back into his boots. The bites on his ankle had thankfully healed and he was well enough to walk again without a limp, and before long he and George made their way out of the inn and into the village.

Dream decided to visit the blacksmiths first to pay for armour - a pair of boots and leggings would be enough. Ender pearls were expensive and he didn’t want to waste emeralds on a helmet if he didn’t need one. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be fighting. The trip took the best part of an hour, and he made a mental note to return to pick up his gear before nightfall. After he headed to get a late breakfast: bacon and waffles and a large cup of hot chocolate. It was a luxury he wouldn’t often treat himself to, but right now his body was craving the comfort of good food and drink. He wished he could share it with his friends, though George pawed at his legs and begged for a slice of bacon and he decided that maybe  _ not  _ sharing was just as good. Still, he gave the thing a rasher and scratched its head absentmindedly as he ate his own breakfast. 

The rest of the day was peaceful in a way, Dream purchasing a new - and larger - rucksack from a trader and finding a cleric to trade emeralds for ender pearls. He didn’t want to spend everything he had, and so only purchased seven pearls. If he had any gems left when he headed out to find the Stronghold he could buy more, but for now he was content with this. It wouldn’t take too long to find five pearls, he could get lucky with a Stronghold and only have to find one or two if there were a decent amount in chests and the portal frame itself.

While he didn’t mind the chill of autumn when the sun was out, clouds had covered the skies and the winds had picked up, so Dream opted for finding a small cafe to spend his afternoon reading in. He treated himself to a pot of tea and settled in a dark corner, starting to read through the texts. It took time to decipher them but things began to become much clearer when he did.

_ ‘Every hundred millennia, when the stars align and the Gods awaken, the world is purged. Life is eradicated and starts anew, with death and decay rampant prior to one final battle of the worlds. Temples of ancient civilizations have been discovered, but no traces of the life that created them. Life once worshipped these Gods, but their destructive nature and desire to control more than their own realms caused conflict with the mortals whose lives were stolen time and time again. Just as civilization established itself, it was destroyed, and progress plateaued. Is there something out there that the Gods wish to hide from us? A mistake? A greater being than themselves or a greater purpose than they could ever provide? We will be gone before these questions are answered, but these texts should live on. Future species may be able to understand and, one day, solve this mystery.’ _

Dream was enthralled in the book, reading through the findings and the evidence that the Illagers had pulled together. Was that why their community had been exiled? Was that why they detested those that still put their faith into the Gods so much? Dream had only ever been mildly religious, and only because his parents had raised him that way, but the idea of prophecies and Gods waging wars against each other almost seemed far-fetched enough to be believable to him now. What else could explain the changes in the world?

The book was filled with details regarding proof of past mass extinctions, drawings of temples and sketches of the stars. The Gods were described in detail - the Gods of the End, the Overworld, and the Nether - though their positions in the war seemed to be far less so. It was uncertain who started everything, and if things could be put to rights. There was a chapter dedicated to each of the signs of the end approaching and Dream felt a shiver run down his spine as he read through them. Death becoming permanent, the placement of the stars in the sky, and a man named  _ Herobrine _ . A God and a king, royalty that emerged from the End and led battalions of Endermen into war. 

Dream read until the cafe was beginning to close and he was asked kindly to leave, to which he apologised to staying so long and left a small tip for the staff that had been waiting for him to leave so they could clear up after him. As he and George wandered back through the village he looked up at the sky - night was beginning to fall but clouds still obscured much of the view and he worried he would be unable to see the stars. 

He collected his armour from the blacksmith and thanked them for their help, heading back up to his room in the inn with George and watching as the dog leapt onto the bed to curl up and sleep.

“You’re still tired?” Dream asked. “We’ve had a long couple of days, take this.” He rifled through his satchel and took out a steak for the dog, George salivating excitedly and suddenly much more reanimated. As it jumped down onto the floor to eat, Dream chuckled. “I’ll be back later, don’t wait up for me.” 

With that he left to find dinner for himself and spend some time preparing himself mentally. From what he had read - stories of Gods and kings and the powers that they held - he believed that his plan would work. It didn’t exactly mean it was advisable. 

Dream slipped into a quiet pub and sat himself by an open fire, enjoying the warmth it provided as he waited for his food and sipped on fizzy lemonade quietly. He wondered, if everything he’d read was true, if these people had noticed anything different as of yet. Maybe this alleged war was still centuries away, maybe it wouldn’t happen in any of their lifetimes.

But maybe it would, and maybe all of these people would disappear in the blink of an eye. It was a disheartening feeling, to think that life could be extinguished with the snap of someone’s fingers, but one that simply encouraged Dream to complete his journey quicker. The sooner he could be back with Bad, Sapnap and George the better. Maybe they could bring each other back to life but he very much doubted any of them were capable of facing the Gods themselves. If nothing else, he wanted to tell them all just how much he loved them.

As he ate his dinner - shepherds pie and vegetables - he let himself think of the good times they’d shared together. Years of happy memories. He and Sapnap had been friends since they were children, George had shown up when they were teenagers and two years ago they’d met Bad and his friends. He really was lucky to have such a good group of people that he’d surrounded himself with, people that he’d been able to share so much of his life with, and even if they were to be wiped from existence tomorrow he would cherish every second they’d ever spent together.

He just asked that he could give them all one last hug before that day came.

Dream watched the night sky out of the window, watching the moon disappear and reappear from behind clouds, and he knew he wouldn’t be getting a clear look at the stars tonight. Maybe that gave him another day to live in hope that the words he had read weren’t true, maybe he could spend one more night thinking that after they brought Bad back they could live out the rest of their lives happily together.

Somehow, he didn’t think that would be the case.

Dream sat for a little longer, his eyes fixated on the fire that crackled beside him. He watched as the flames flickered, black smoke rising up through the chimney above and embers popping onto the cold stone floor below. The logs that had been burning for some time were still going strong but the kindling was beginning to smoulder and Dream threw his napkin onto the fire, watching as it surged upwards once more. As he leaned back into his seat he closed his eyes, enjoying the sounds around him and letting himself relax. If the world wasn’t ending, if he wasn’t so far from his friends, he could have gotten used to it, but the sound of a chair creaking beside him was enough to make him jump.

“Oh.” Dream said, realising that someone else had sat at his table. “Sorry, I was finished, if you want to use it--”

He was cut off as he reached for the book beside him, a gloved hand pressing down against his gently, and he panicked. As he turned to look at the stranger beside him he felt any ability to process thoughts and words leave his body as he stared at the familiar mask, the glowing eyes, and he realised who he was looking at. His jaw had gone slack and his mouth hung open in shock, a breath leaving him quietly. He had so many questions and had a feeling that he wouldn’t receive any answers just by sitting and staring silently, so he forced his brain to kick into gear once more and pushed the only word he could think of from his lips.

_ “George?” _

The older man was silent, and even without speaking Dream  _ knew  _ it was him. Who else could it be? No one else had paid enough attention to him to see the glowing behind the mask but Dream knew, and his heart stopped in his chest. George, the man he’d fallen in love with, the man he’d told himself he’d confess to if he ever saw him again. The man that had become so broken and so lost in an attempt to bring him back. What words could he possibly say that were enough to encapsulate everything he needed to in that moment?

“We need to talk.” 

Dream nodded immediately, George standing up and turning to leave. He walked with his head hung low and Dream could understand why, and he followed after him quickly. He missed the feeling of George’s hand on his own, though, but he didn’t want to cross over any boundaries. Whatever was going on, the tone in George’s voice told him it was serious. This wasn’t the time for confessing his feelings. Still, as their footsteps echoed in the empty streets around them, Dream spoke up.

“Don’t I get a hug?”

George stopped walking, turning to look over his shoulder at Dream. There was no one around to see them, no one to say anything if they overheard the conversation, it was just the two of them. They were lit gently with glowstone street lights and the wind blew softly through Dream’s hair. He wondered how he must look to George - his clothes dirty and bloodied from his fights, a scab on his arm and teeth marks in his boots. Would he be angry with how much he’d risked himself after they’d only just saved him? Would he be worried? He saw hesitation in the man’s reaction, George’s hands fiddling at his sides as he searched for the right words in his reply.

“You wouldn’t want to hug a monster.” George said, his voice hollow, and Dream’s heart shattered at that. 

“George whatever’s happened to you, you  _ aren’t  _ a monster.” Dream assured him, starting to take a few quick steps to close the gap between them. “We can talk about this, we can fix it!”

“Dream--” George said quickly, holding out his hand and freezing Dream in place as he cut his own sentence short. He was horrified with himself, the last thing he wanted right now was for Dream to touch him. But as quickly as he’d held Dream still he let him go, though the younger didn’t make any move towards George now. He wondered if he’d scared his friend, if this was going to be the nail in the coffin for their friendship, but he might as well go all in now. 

While Dream stood and watched, George raised his hands to his mask. Even from a distance it was obvious to see just how much they trembled, and as they slowly pulled it away to reveal his face Dream couldn’t hold in his gasp. He’d seen the purple eyes already, he  _ knew  _ that there had been something amiss, but George’s face…

It was as if it was splitting apart at the seams. His skin almost seemed to be peeling away, flaking off in patches to reveal a deep black - looking at it felt like looking into the void itself. If he looked closely, Dream could see the little flecks of purple that seemed to radiate from him.

And then he was gone, in the blink of an eye.

“I don’t understand what’s happening to me.” 

Dream turned on the spot, George now standing behind him. He’d teleported,  _ actually  _ teleported, and he hadn’t thrown a pearl. Dream thought he’d had a lot of questions before but now he felt even more confused by the entire situation, and he couldn’t even muster up the strength to say George’s name. But this was still George, still his best friend, and he still felt as though he was a monster.

He didn’t give George a second to react as he ran to him, arms enveloping him and pulling him close against his chest. 

“You’re not a monster, George.” He whispered quietly, and after a few moments he felt hands wind around his own body. As George returned the hug Dream squeezed just a little bit tighter, resting his head against George’s and closing his eyes. “You helped save my life, we’ll bring back Bad and fix everything together. You’re not a monster, you’re a hero.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya guys, hope you're all doing well! i've got chapter 6 drafted at the moment to post on wednesday & i'm trying to finish up chapter 7 for friday tonight as i have surgery tomorrow (which i am still 100% in denial about) so updates might take a little longer than usual as i don't know how much pain i'll be in when i'm recovering. please bear with me if things aren't 100% on schedule over the next few days <3 love you all & thank you so much for reading over the last few weeks! honestly i've been blown away by the support & it means a lot to me!


	6. Temples & Travels

George and Dream sat side by side at the edge of the village, the cool grass beneath them and the inches of space between them feeling like a ravine that was just a little bit too wide to jump across. Funny - that was how this had all started. A game, a mistake, and everything had come crashing down from there. Dream felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest at the possibilities the moment held, not wanting to fall down another ravine. While he couldn’t quite find the words to speak he shifted his hand ever so slightly: his pinky finger found George’s gloved one, and he wrapped around it gently. It was a miniscule gesture, so small that the rest of the world would never even know it had happened, but George shifted just a little and Dream knew he’d noticed.

“I killed you…” He said softly, lowering his head. “I know it was a game but all I could see every time I closed my eyes was you falling, I couldn’t stop hearing your scream, you were supposed to be okay but you  _ weren’t _ . All of this was my fault.”

“Unless you’re a God, I don’t think you made death permanent.” Dream reassured him. He didn’t want George to blame himself for this - not in a million years - and as the clouds shifted to let the moonlight stream down on them once more he dared to move his ring finger over George’s hand as well. He felt a twitch as George responded to the touch, his hand sliding just a little bit further beneath Dream’s, and Dream felt his lips curve upward into a small smile. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough to encourage him to keep going. He shifted his hand until his palm covered George’s hand entirely and he laced their fingers together, George’s hand feeling cooler than his own.

“You know about it too?” George asked, turning to face him nervously. “When I ran from you and from Sapnap I tried to find things out about myself and what was happening, I read more about the prophecy the cleric told us about while you were… Gone. He called me the Lost One, the Experiment, I want to go to the End and see if anyone there can tell me anything.”

“I can help you get there.” Dream told him. “I have plenty of blaze powder, and seven pearls, we can find a Stronghold and go together. I was going to set off in the morning anyway.”

George let himself smile at that - maybe the Universe was just a little bit kinder than he thought. What were the odds of stumbling into Dream in the middle of nowhere? Both of them were lost and alone in this world, just trying to make things right. At least now they could be together again. George looked at Dream as closely as he could, though his features looked different to the last time he’d seen him. He decided that his freckles looked more beautiful when all he could see was yellow and blue, and his eyes had looked more radiant before, but even with his inability to see what Dream truly looked like he still knew he was stunning. 

Dream looked away after a long moment, and if George could see a little bit better he would have noticed the blush that filled his cheeks, but instead he simply watched as Dream stood up from where he sat and stretched. His back popped satisfyingly and he yawned, offering George a hand to help him up.

“I’ve got a room at the inn, you can share if you want. There’s only one bed but…” 

“It’s fine.” George said quickly. “I don’t really sleep. I’ll keep myself out of the way until you want to leave tomorrow.”

Dream knew his face fell, but quickly fought against his impulses to hide the expression. George wasn’t comfortable with that boundary being crossed and that was fine, he wouldn’t cross it, but he felt a little sheepish as he stuck his hands deep into his pockets.

“I suppose I’ll see you in the morning then?” Dream asked, it felt ridiculous to feel so  _ shy  _ around George all of a sudden. They’d been friends for years and now he was a stuttering mess, unable to keep himself calm and collected.

“Goodnight, Dream.”

“Goodnight George.”

The two parted ways with bashful smiles and rosy cheeks, their feelings not explicitly discussed but hinted at in the way that they spoke and acted. Maybe when all this was over they’d be able to talk about it properly, and Dream couldn’t help just how quickly his heart beat in his chest as he returned to the inn and settled in for a comfortable night of sleep.

# # #

Dream awoke at dawn to a very energetic dog, and he smiled down at him as he stretched. Today he would journey with George (and George, which he realised would very quickly become  _ very  _ confusing) and they would be one step closer to solving this mystery and to saving Bad. He was quick to pack away his belongings into his satchel and rucksack, hooking his tools at his side and adding his shield and armour to the rest of the things he carried. Stepping outside of the inn he was met with an abnormally warm day, but knowing that their journey would most likely take them through the jungle he was prepared for it. It would be hot, humid, and long, but they would cope.

He bought himself breakfast and gave his dog some steak, before searching to find George in the crowd of people.

It wasn’t particularly hard - George stuck out like a sore thumb. He kept his eyes down and hood over his head to avoid the locals seeing what he was, even though his mask covered his face when he did look up. Dream would have to convince him to remove it when they got going, but for now there was nothing he could do. As he sidled up to George, the other was still deep in thought, so Dream nudged his shoulder gently and he jumped.

“Dream!” He said, staring up at him with an anger that was enough to make Dream wheeze. His laughter softened George’s features behind his mask and he smiled, but knew full well that it was hidden from Dream. As he shook his head at the immaturity of the other man he heard a bark and tilted his head down to see where it had come from. When he saw the dog - his eyes shining under the sun and his fur ruffled - he let out a little gasp of delight.

“You got a dog, Dream!”

“Yeah, he’s called George.” Dream admitted, and as George looked back up to him quickly he shrugged. “Only because he’s an idiot and won’t stop following me.”

“You missed me?” George said, and the little bit of hope and happiness in his voice warmed Dream’s heart.

“You missed me too.” He replied. Before he gave George time to answer he reached into his bag. “Want me to make an Eye of Ender? We can start heading towards the Stronghold if you want?”

“I know where it is.” George said quietly, keeping his voice low to avoid being overheard by others. “Don’t ask how, I’m not sure I can explain it, but follow me.”

George started in the direction of the jungle and Dream easily fell into a rhythm beside him, the dog running on ahead and stretching its legs in the field between them and the rainforest. They walked in a comfortable silence and made good progress towards the thick trees ahead, and George even removed his mask to reveal his face once more. It still jolted Dream just as it had when he first saw what he looked like, but he didn’t let it show. He assumed that anything he felt, George was feeling tenfold. But Dream still had a lot of questions he wanted answering, and while things were still peaceful he wanted to ask them.

“What happened with Bad?”

George faltered in his pace at the question, but to his credit he didn’t stop or turn around. Dream watched his shoulders fall and his head droop just a little as he searched for the right words to say to explain everything - clearly there was more to it than just George killing Bad.

“A lot of things went wrong. When we were in the Nether Sapnap got hit by a Wither Skeleton, we had to cut his arm off to keep him from dying. Bad and Sapnap ran to make a new portal to escape through while I fought off Pigmen, I lost an eye. I started hearing whispers, talking to Endermen, something was changing in me and I couldn’t control it, and we had an argument about Sapnap. I said… I said that he was a liability, that we should kill him. I think by the time we were in the End everything had eaten away at Bad and he snapped when we were fighting the Dragon - he managed to climb on top of it while it was flying around. I tried to shoot the Dragon but I only had one eye so my aim was off and… I hit Bad. I killed him. I watched you fall to your death in a ravine because of me and Bad fell from the Dragon because of me, and with everything changing in me that I couldn’t control or understand I felt like running away was the only real option I had.”

George’s explanation was slow, struggling to get the words out at times as he relived the horror and the guilt of everything he’d done. “I don’t think they’ll ever forgive me.”

“This isn’t your fault, if something’s happening to you because of this prophecy then you can’t help it.”

“But you’re my friends, I should be able to protect you all from me. Whatever it is I’m going to put a stop to it, I’ll find a way to make things right. I’ll fix everything I can.”

Dream nodded, but didn’t say anything else. Whatever George wanted, whatever support he needed, Dream would be right by his side. He might not have seen what had been described but he believed George in what he said and right now, he was certain that was what he needed.

The conversation had brought them to the fringe of the jungle and they grabbed their swords, glad for the distraction of vines, tall trees and leaves from the topic at hand. The dog was quick to scurry off into the undergrowth but remained close by. George and Dream on the other hand had their work cut out to cut through the trees and make any real progress together. George had offered to experiment with his ability to teleport, but Dream had declined. The jungle was thick but it could hold some kind of treasure and Dream didn’t want to miss out on such an opportunity. They separated just a little as they travelled, staying close enough to hear each other but allowing themselves a greater chance of finding something if there was anything  _ to  _ find.

When clouds rolled in above them and thunder rumbled, George fell oddly silent. Dream began to wonder just how much like an Enderman he was - outwardly he appeared to share a number of traits with the monsters and he wondered if, now that it was raining, he had teleported to a place of safety that wouldn’t cause him any pain. Dream continued to work, the relief of the rain against his skin washing away the sweat that clung to him. Cutting through the humid jungle felt like a monstrous task and even though they’d been going for hours, he would be unsurprised if he’d barely made any progress at all. But when he looked behind him to see dense jungle, he was at least glad that the Universe wasn’t teasing him with the sight of the village still close by. It gave him a little more of a boost to keep cutting through vines.

The storm ended as quickly as it had begun, and it left behind an intense heat in its wake. As the rain that had fallen immediately began to evaporate, Dream continued to work through the mist, struggling with his footing just a little without being able to see beneath him. He used his sword to find the ground before every step, not wanting to fall into another cave or ravine without warning. The Totem was still in his bag, but now more than ever he didn’t want to use it.

Eventually he swung his sword and was met with the clang of metal against stone rather than the hashing sound of vines being destroyed. Dream was confused and leaned out, feeling his hand coming into contact with a smooth rock face that was covered in moss and leaves. The mist was thick and that made it impossible to see far, but he could hear the dog barking in the distance. Had he found something? Dream didn’t want to get his hopes up and think that he’d found a temple, but he couldn’t help himself. If he’d found it there could be more answers inside, more to learn about the prophecy, and he was eager to find a way in.

“George?” Dream called out, but received no response. It concerned him - he didn’t want to lose George so soon after finding him again - but there was nothing he could do. He simply assumed that the humidity had been too uncomfortable for George to remain in and he’d retreated for the time being. Eventually he’d find him once more.

Dream followed the mossy rock wall closely, his hand not leaving the surface as he guided himself around it. He watched his footing closely, making sure he didn’t trip or stumble, and the barking of his dog became louder. At least he was heading in the right direction to find  _ someone _ .

When he was greeted by his equally smelly and soggy companion, Dream spoke.

“What was it boy? Go show me.” He instructed. The dog barked again and ran back into the undergrowth, before jumping and making a bush shake several paces away. Dream took his sword and carefully cut away the shrubbery to reveal an opening in the walls. It  _ was  _ a temple, and Dream felt a laugh fall from his mouth as water dripped down from his hair. Dream pushed more branches back and made a space to drop down, before turning back to face the dog. 

“Stay here, alright? Keep watch, and if you see George send him my way.” The dog barked in response and Dream smiled, pulling his flint and steel from his pocket to light a torch before he descended into darkness.

His footsteps against the cobblestone floor echoed, though the stone itself had become brittle with time and exposure to the elements and crumbled just a little as he walked. He didn’t want to stay in here any longer than he had to for fear of what could happen, but he wanted to explore. There had been temples mentioned in the book the Illagers had written and he wanted to see if he could find anything else that would help make things clearer.

As he descended down a flight of stairs he was presented with two ways to go and he turned left, the torchlight glowing and lightly his way as he followed the corridor as it turned on itself. The walls down here were covered with spiderwebs and he paused to try and hear if there was anything near him that could be a threat. Several moments of silence passed by and Dream assumed that meant he was safe, so he continued to walk. Much of the ground beneath his feet was covered in a thin layer of mulch that squished under his weight, and he wondered just how long it had been here. Perhaps since the last mass extinction, maybe even longer. As he walked he saw something reflect the light of the torch and his curiosity was piqued, with Dream turning his attention in that direction and starting to walk straight towards it.

So when he tripped over a wire on the ground he stumbled, and suddenly he felt the air in his lungs knocked out of him as his body was pinned against a wall roughly. He dropped the torch and blinked, confused and unsure if he should be attempting to fight back (although the weight against him was too strong even for him to shift).

He heard a series of arrows whistle past him and breathed quickly, and once the danger had passed his body was released from the wall.

George stepped back from Dream, picking the tripwire up from the ground as Dream processed what had just happened. The realisation that it had been George pinning his body against him so forcefully was enough to make him blush and he was thankful that it couldn’t be seen in the darkness. And then there was the fact that George had appeared from nowhere and saved his life, and now he was just standing breathlessly against the wall and watching the older man examine the ground for more traps. 

“You really ought to be more careful, Dream.” George said offhandedly, pulling another wire and setting off more arrows while his head was down. “I can’t lose you again, please don’t make me live through losing you a second time.”

Dream could hear the sadness in George’s voice and he felt a lump rising in his throat. He grabbed his torch and lit it once more, illuminating George’s face and offering him a gentle smile. “I will be, I promise.”

He didn’t ask George where he’d disappeared to, instead continuing to follow the corridor while keeping out a much closer eye for traps. He didn’t want to break that promised to George so soon, he couldn’t bear to hear him so sad about the prospect of losing him. Instead he wanted to tell him the truth about how he felt, and he opened his mouth to try and find the right words to describe how much he loved him when George spoke.

“There’s a chest here, help me lift it.”

So much for a confession by torch light. Dream found a small hole that held the torch easily and slipped it in, before moving to George’s side and helping him lift the ancient box. As it moved it creaked and dust filled the air, causing both of them to splutter as they breathed in just a little bit too much. After a few moments of coughing it turned into laughter and the both of them ended up in stitches as they looked at the other’s dust covered face.

As they settled down they looked into the chest, and Dream shrugged his rucksack off his shoulders to take as much as he could. The gold and iron, along with the redstone bricks he already had, would be perfect to make a new arm for Sapnap, and the diamonds would do for a new sword next time he had a chance to craft. 

George had left Dream’s side to pick up the arrows from where they were stuck into the wall after they’d narrowly missed them both. As they filled their bags with what they could find they worked in silence, and Dream decided to try again.

“George…” He began softly, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. He turned around as he closed the chest, reopening his eyes and looking at the man before him. Even with his face warped and splitting, with his eyes glowing, he couldn’t deny the feelings that bubbled up inside him. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, Dream?” George replied. His voice was just as gentle, as if he knew where the conversation was leading, and he gave Dream a smile to encourage him to continue. 

“It’s just that--”   
  


He was cut off by the sound of a Skeleton and looked up, trying to pinpoint where the noise was coming from. They hadn’t been down here particularly long but he didn’t want to get trapped by anything, and George had been pulled out of the moment by the sound as well. He would get the words he needed out before long, and until then he’d just have to keep showing George how he felt. Dream grabbed his torch in one hand, running back up the corridor and grabbing George’s hand with his other as he pulled him up the steps. 

It didn’t last for long. Dream let go of George’s hand when he saw the Skeleton in question and he grabbed his sword, slashing with it quickly before it could process what was happening. The Skeleton paid no attention to Dream even as he brought the metal blade down onto it a second time, it was looking at George and George alone, and if a Skeleton could look terrified then it would have been. It did mean that there was no real fight, and that Dream had killed it before seemingly any time had passed at all. He took the monster’s bow and hooked it at his side to use later as he sheathed his sword.

“I think we can all agree I’m the best fighter.” Dream said with a cocky grin, and George just scoffed.

“He wasn’t even looking at you, we should head out, the Stronghold isn’t too far.”

“Don’t you want to look upstairs first?” Dream asked. “Who knows, could be more traps for me to walk into.”

“Any excuse to get shoved against a wall.” George shook his head, but he started up the stairs and Dream tried desperately to hide the fact that his entire face was on fire. That wasn’t what he’d meant at all, and he knew that George knew that.

Dream bounded up two steps at a time, ignoring the crumbling of the rocky floor beneath him. This floor of the temple had windows and light shone in, so he left the torch in the corner and let it burn itself out as he spent a moment looking at the view. He could see out to the other side of the rainforest from here - towering cliffs and mountains and acacia trees nestled between waterfalls and lava falls. It looked magnificent from where he stood, and the prospect of being  _ in  _ such an environment was even more exciting. He turned around to see George looking at one of the walls of the temple, pushing moss and vines away from where they’d grown to conceal the stone with his gloved hands. Dream went to help him, and they made short work of the overgrown foliage. Stepping back to look at the carvings, Dream let himself gasp just a little.

Intricate stone pictures of a battle lay before them, three figures towering and fighting while chaos reigned on the land below them. 

“Can you read it?” Dream asked, not sure  _ why  _ he was asking. The words were utter nonsense, a language that didn’t even exist to their species, and yet when George began to read it aloud Dream found himself accepting it immediately.

“The final battle, the end of days, when the stars align, our prayers will go unheard.”

There was a beat of silence before Dream forced out a hollow laugh.

“That sounds optimistic.” He said, looking at George with a smile. “Everything will be fine.”

“Do you really think that?” George asked him, wandering back down the stairs to exit the temple. Dream waited where he was and thought for a moment. He  _ didn’t  _ think everything would be okay but what was he supposed to say to George? Perhaps being mentioned in this prophecy had taken more of a toll on him than Dream realised, maybe he felt responsible for the warnings of the end of times.

But that, really, was impossible. George couldn’t change the future any more than the rest of them could, and as Dream followed after him he made a conscious effort to grab his hand once more. Dream felt no resistance as George curled his fingers around his own and he smiled a little, the small gesture becoming so much easier to show now that he knew it would be returned. 

George began to walk in silence again, leading Dream towards the Stronghold. They both hacked their way through the forest with their swords but it didn’t take long for the jungle to begin to thin out once more. Before much more time passed they were walking through tall jungle ferns easily and the trees began to disappear from above them. The mud they walked through was soon replaced with grass, the land and air dried out quickly - something that George was evidently pleased with - and the terrain became much more dramatic. Flat, rolling fields were replaced with steep mountains that the two walked around rather than journeyed over. Every step seemed to reveal more and more breathtaking landscapes and Dream was in awe of what he saw. 

They stood on the edge of a valley as the sun began to set, a steep cliff below them giving way to lakes and rocky plateaus. Dream couldn’t help himself from gazing out onto the horizon, and he was amazed that the world could be so extreme and so beautiful all at once. He wanted in that moment to do nothing more than reach out and grab George’s hand, so he did. When he felt their fingers lace together he gave a gentle squeeze and George did the same in return, and his heart fluttered in his chest.

“I think I love you.” 

The words weren’t the ones he’d been looking for, but they were all he could blurt out at that moment. Still, he looked ahead at the setting sun and George gave his hand another squeeze.

“Pretty sure I love you too.”

Dream felt his smile grow at the reply, and though he knew that they’d need to have a proper conversation about it at some point it was enough for right now. The sun descended behind a mountain and darkness started to creep up on them, but Dream couldn’t stop feeling quite so  _ light _ . He loved George, and George loved him. They were going to head to the End and bring Bad back, and things would be okay. They’d have each other from this point on, nothing could come between them.

A barking broke them from the shared peace they were enjoying and they twisted to look at the dog, neither of them letting go of the other’s hand. 

“He can’t come to the End with us.” Dream said simply, before letting go and crouching down to give the dog one last ruffle of his head. “You’ve been such a wonderful friend, and your paw is all better now, but I’m going to go somewhere far away and I won’t see you again.” He said. The dog’s ears drooped as if he could understand what Dream was saying and he pushed himself up on his hind legs to lick Dream’s face affectionately, Dream laughing softly at the action.

“Go on buddy, I’m sure you’ll find more of your kind to stay with. Don’t forget about me though, I’ll always be the person that gave you their last fish.”

The dog barked at that and Dream reached into his satchel, pulling out the last of the steaks he’d cooked the day before. He threw it a short distance away to distract the dog before turning back to George and taking in a deep breath.

“So, where’s the Stronghold?”

“Here.” George said. He grabbed Dream’s hand this time - slipping into his grasp like they’d been made for each other to hold. “Do you trust me?”

“More than anyone.” Dream replied simply, and in the blink of an eye their surroundings changed. Gone were the beautiful mountains and towering waterfalls, now they were in a darkened room and Dream struggled to make anything out as his eyes began to adjust to his surroundings.

“It’ll take a second, I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Dream felt George’s hands on his shoulders holding him in place as he swayed while his vision began to return to normal, and when the dizziness from teleporting together wore off they were exactly where they needed to be, the portal room of the Stronghold. Silverfish squirmed along the floor but George was quick to take care of them as Dream processed what had happened. Sure, George had mentioned earlier that he knew where the Stronghold was but without a clear explanation, Dream was confused.

“It calls to me.” He explained simply, as if he could hear Dream’s question. “The portal, I found it without an Eye when we were looking for a way to bring you back. You said you had some pearls and blaze powder?”

With a nod, Dream took his rucksack off his shoulder and rifled through his belongings. The seven pearls he’d traded for and four of his rods were pulled out and handed to George before he turned to look at the frame. There was only one Eye of Ender already in place and that meant they needed another four, but George reached into his own bag.

“I told you I was heading to the End as well, don’t you think I’d have tried to come at least a little prepared?” He questioned. Pulling another handful of pearls out he grinned from ear to ear, settling on the steps to the portal frame and starting to break the blaze rods and crumble them over the pearls, letting them transform into sparkling Eyes of Ender.

Dream sat beside him and helped quietly, the two working side by side to quickly make the eleven Eyes they needed to step through to the other side. While they worked Dream hummed a tune to himself and George let a smile grow on his face. Seeing all these little parts of Dream that he hid from Bad and from Sapnap made him feel incredibly lucky, although he disliked knowing that the reason he was probably showing it now was because he had been alone and gotten used to his own company. He almost wished he hadn’t run now, that he’d stayed behind and been there to help Dream from the start, but he knew that it had been the best for all of them. At least, for both of them. He hadn’t seen or heard from Sapnap since he’d left the village a little less than a week ago and he hoped that he was safe. His face fell as he tried to think of how he would begin to apologise to the man, but he still found himself afraid that the friendship they’d shared was gone.

“What’s on your mind?” Dream asked gently, glancing up at George. “You’re thinking.”

“Even if we somehow manage to find a way to bring Bad back, Sapnap isn’t going to forgive me easily. I don’t know if he ever will, and I don’t know if you’ll want me to stay around if that’s the case.”

“I’ll want you to stay.” Dream said. “When I said I love you, I  _ meant  _ it. I love you, George. This isn’t the best time or place to talk about it properly but you deserve to know, and when everything is over and we’re back home and Bad’s alive again we can talk about it, we can figure out what we want to do, things will be okay. I’m not going to leave you though, I promise. Whatever happens, we’ve got each other.”

George swallowed at Dream’s words. He’d never been good at words, and even as Dream seemed to know what he needed to hear he couldn’t even muster up the beginnings of a reply. As the last of the pearls began fizzing away and changing into an Eye of Ender his eyes glanced down as he looked at Dream and he saw the younger man’s tongue poke out of his mouth just a little, wetting his bottom lip before his teeth grazed it gently. He couldn’t quite tell if he was seeing things but he felt as though Dream was leaning just a little bit closer, and so George began to do the same. It was a tiny movement, but the ripple of water soon became a tidal wave and with almost no notice at all, George closed the gap between the two of them and brought his hands up. One rested on Dream’s cheek and the other on his shoulder and he pressed their lips together hurriedly. His eyes were closed and his stomach was tied up in knots but the feeling of Dream’s lips, plush and soft against his own, made everything worth it. He felt a hand press against his neck, the gentle skin of Dream’s hands finding his body and his thumb brushing carefully against him. His heart sped up and he dared himself just a little further, shifting his body closer to Dream’s until their knees were touching and Dream’s other hand moved to his waist. 

The contact was enough for George to gasp and Dream chased his lips, using the opportunity to deepen the kiss and press his tongue against George’s. He wanted to be so much greedier and to push further, he wanted more, but now wasn’t the time for more. As the kiss came to a close he let his teeth nip at George’s bottom lip, just enough for him to feel something but not enough to leave a mark. He pulled away slowly, his eyes fluttering open to take George in, and he felt his heart in his throat. 

“Not bad.” George laughed nervously, and any tension or worries that hung between them as a result of their actions faded away.

“Yeah, you need a teacher.” Dream joked, getting to his feet and picking up the Eyes of Ender. With George’s help he quickly filled out the rest of the portal and watched as the tear in reality opened up. A gateway to the End. To Dream it was beautiful, to George it was horrifying. He’d stood here all too recently with Sapnap and Bad beside him and he worried that this time something would happen to Dream while they were there, or that he’d learn something about himself he didn’t want to hear. Dream could sense his unspoken worries and reached out without questioning him, letting him hold his hand to find the support he needed to overcome whatever he was thinking. 

“Ready?” Dream asked after a moment, watching George take in deep breaths.

“As I’ll ever be.”

There was a sense of safety in knowing that there wasn’t going to be a Dragon waiting for them on the other side, and as the two stepped hand in hand into the portal they knew they had each other to help stay safe. Whatever happened between them they had each other, and so long as that was the case everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! sorry to disappoint but this is lucid moonie writing the author's note on monday, hope you enjoyed this chapter (and the kith!!!!), fingers crossed this has posted on wednesday as intended (otherwise something went wrong with surgery lol!)


	7. A Deal & The Lost One

The End was exactly how it had been left. The bridge to the main island remained intact for George and Dream to use to cross and the Dragon was still gone, an egg left in her place. There were groups of Endermen surrounding the island and Dream was careful to keep his head down, looking at the ground as he jumped the narrow gap of the void to land on the endstone. George teleported onto the island as Dream used the path that remained carved out, and when he found himself on the flat of the island he moved just a little way from the edge before changing into his armour. 

“I’ve got spare pearls.” George told him. He only had two, but if they held onto each other again that would be enough to get them there and back. And if something happened for whatever reason, he could easily ask for more from the Endermen. As Dream dared to raise his head to look at George he offered a small smile, trying to reassure him that this would all be okay.

“You want to find an End City?”

“That’s exactly what I want to do.  _ Someone  _ there will be able to help me. Someone will know what it is that’s happening to me. I was experimented on here, they must know  _ something  _ about me.”

Dream nodded. He neglected to mention his plan to George, knowing that the man must have enough going through his brain right now. He didn’t need to know what Dream was planning, and Dream would silently support him in his own quest for knowledge. Whatever they found out, Dream would be there for him.

“It won’t change how I feel about you, you know that right?” Dream said, and he saw George’s expression flash into something that resembled thanks, but his mind was too worried about the consequences of what he would hear to truly be happy even now. He just reached for Dream’s hand and held on tightly, before hurling the ender pearl as hard as he could into the gateway that had spawned above the Dragon’s pillar. They waited hand in hand for a moment, breath hitched in their throats as they waited to be teleported. 

Dream closed his eyes when it happened and stumbled when he landed, his body not coping with teleportation as well as George’s did. When he reopened them he was greeted with one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen, and he found himself forgetting to let go of his breath for a long moment as he took in everything around him.

He’d heard of End Cities, he  _ knew  _ of End Cities, but seeing one in person was a completely different feeling. The cream structures stood high in the sky, contrasting with the deep darkness of the void, and the purple bricks that outlined the buildings didn’t compliment the colours at all. But he supposed he didn’t know what colours the Endermen saw, there was no telling what it looked like to them. Maybe it  _ was  _ beautiful, maybe he just wasn’t looking at it in the right way.

“Where do we start?” Dream asked George quietly, reluctantly to let go of his hand even now they’d landed.

“We should split up and cover as much ground as possible.” George replied. “I don’t know what I’m looking for, if it’s a person or a book or a painting on the walls, but if you see anything that seems like it fits into the story come find me.”

Dream didn’t like the idea of splitting up, not when he remembered the book from the Illagers.  _ Herobrine, the God and the king that would lead the Endermen into battle _ . If they were approaching the end of times then surely he could be here, preparing himself and his soldiers for war. Whatever George was - a prophecy, an experiment, or an enderman - it gave him an advantage: he could teleport away and communicate with these people, but Dream had no such luxuries. If he was in danger his only option would be to fight and he couldn’t take on that many Endermen at once.

Then again, maybe being alone would make it easier to make a deal. Maybe Herobrine was the one he needed to speak with  _ to  _ make that deal.

George could sense Dream’s worries and handed him the last ender pearl. “Just in case.” He said with a smile. “I’ll see you on the other side, alright?”

“Alright.” Dream said, slipping the pearl into his pocket so he could use it quickly if he needed to. He reached into his satchel for a moment as George teleported away towards one of the farthest buildings and felt his fingers brush against the wood of the Totem. It was still there, he hadn’t lost it, he could continue with his plan. Taking in a deep breath he began his search, wishing he’d told George he loved him just one last time - just in case it didn’t work.

As he walked between the buildings, head down to avoid the sight lines of any Endermen, Dream found himself under attack quickly by the strangest creatures he’d ever faced. It looked like the inside of an oyster hiding away in a box, and he was curious when the first shot fell at his feet. He regretted being curious instantly when the second shot hit him in the shoulder. It didn’t hurt too much, although it wasn’t pleasant, but he found himself rising off the ground. For a brief moment he wondered if he’d been hurt terribly and was hallucinating the feeling, but instead when he kicked his legs and found nothing beneath him he realised that this was terrifyingly real. Dream tried to move himself towards the safety of a building with his arms, as if he could swim through the air, and inched painfully and slowly forward as he climbed steadily higher. The creature was still looking at him angrily and he made a note to be  _ much  _ more careful of them as he managed to grab onto a banner and hold himself in place until he felt the effect wear off. It happened after a minute, and it happened all at once. His arms suddenly bearing the entire weight of his body and he almost fell to his death again - something that he knew George wouldn’t appreciate - but he managed instead to shimmy along the pole and swing himself through an open window. The tower he found himself in was tall and the climb down was precarious but at least he was okay for now. For a moment he stopped to take in a breath, looking at the ceiling above him and realising just how close he’d come to flying off into the void, or falling to a gruesome end. He needed to be more careful.

When he eventually found the strength he needed to descend he moved slowly, taking his time with every step and trying to avoid running into any more of those creatures. At least here he had a roof over his head, he wouldn’t fly too high no matter what happened. 

Dream jumped the last few steps to land on the endstone floor and grabbed his shield to hide behind. His other hand held his sword, but he didn’t know how he would be able to best attack the creature by the building and didn’t want to take any chances. As he exited the doorway he ducked, hearing a spitting sound directed towards him. As soon as the projectile bounced off his shield he peered up, but the creature was already hidden away back in its shell. It wasn’t a risk worth taking, not this close to the end of it all, and so he simply retreated. 

For now he had to focus on finding whoever was in charge and putting his plan into action.

He walked shield first as he rounded another corner and found a large group of Endermen communicating in a language he didn’t understand. Maybe finding out what they had to say would be more difficult than he’d thought, maybe he couldn’t do this without George by his side.

The realisation wasn’t a pleasing one. George would have to see this happen without any explanation and Dream wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to live it down, but he decided that he didn’t have any other choice.

“George!” Dream called as loudly as he could. It attracted the attention of the Endermen beside him and while he waited for his friend to reply he looked them dead in the eyes, taking out his sword as if he were ready to attack. As they began to approach him he spoke, and prayed that George would get there faster. “I’m here to make a deal, I have an offering for…  _ For Herobrine _ . He’s your king, isn’t he? I need his help,  _ take me to him _ .”

George appeared at Dream’s side at that moment, unaware of the conversation that had just happened between them. He was panicked when he saw Dream preparing to attack but the Endermen standing before him simply appeared to laugh, their twisted guffaws crackling ominously. It was a noise neither had ever heard an Enderman make before, and it was one they never wanted to hear again. The first Endermen to stop laughing spoke, and George’s eyes widened.

“Dream, why is he talking about Herobrine?”

“What did he say?” Dream asked, not answering George’s question.

“That Herobrine is lost, and that their leader would never speak to a Human like you.”

“I have something your leader would want.” Dream said, and George realised that he’d been relegated in that moment to the position of translator. Thankfully, the Endermen seemed to have no problem with understanding Dream, it just meant he had to decipher their replies. “But I seek a personal audience with him. With your God.  _ Take me to him _ .”

There was another laugh, this more short lived, and the three gathered together to discuss their response quietly before replying to George. The two that didn’t speak eyed him uncomfortably, watching his every move.

“They agree. But you have to hand over your weapons.” George said. “Dream, what are you doing? What’s this about?”

Again, Dream ignored George’s questions, and he handed over his bow, axe, and sword without a second thought. George stood by him closely and walked with Dream as they were surrounded on three sides by Endermen, escorting them through the streets of their city and taking them into a large building in the centre of the island. On the outside it didn’t look much different from the other buildings but once they were taken inside they were met with high ceilings and chandeliers of end rods dangling from above. Banners decorated the hall they were in and the path they walked up led to an empty throne. Perhaps that was where Herobrine had once sat, before he had been lost. Was that a reference to the wars that had been fought before? Maybe, if he wasn’t here yet, this wasn’t the end of times? Dream found himself truly hopeful for the first time in days and he felt a little more confident as he stopped in his tracks when the others did the same. As discussions took place in another language, Dream looked to George and gave him a reassuring smile.

“I’ve got a plan, trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“Dream, you having a plan doesn’t mean you know what you’re doing. How am I supposed to trust you when you won’t tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m going to bring Bad back.” He said. “But you have to trust me, if I tell you they won’t believe me.”

George felt his fingers twitching at his side as he searched for some kind of clarity of the situation, but with none presenting itself to him he realised that his only option  _ was _ to trust Dream. As much as it hurt to let him do this - whatever it was - without being able to truly help him in his endeavour, he would do as he was asked. 

After all, he  _ did  _ trust Dream. 

Activity went on around them that was unexplained and a group of Endermen disappeared to another room together. They returned a few minutes later with a mace on a deep purple cushion. It was decorated modestly, with ender pearls forming a pattern on the head of silver, and looked as though it served very little purpose other than decorative. That was nice to know, Dream didn’t particularly  _ want  _ to have his head bashed in while trying to save Bad. Even if he could come back from it, he doubted the experience would be pleasant.

Once the Endermen settled they spoke to George again, who translated for Dream.

“They want us to kneel. Their God will speak with you as you’ve requested.”

Dream nodded, getting to his knees as instructed and hanging his head. He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen next, what their God would be or if there even  _ would  _ be a God. All of this came from the prophecy that he was blindly following, the book he head read and the pictures from the temple. There was a chance that none of it was true. 

Except, in an utterly shocking turn of events, it  _ was  _ true. 

A boom echoed around the chamber they were in, shaking the building to its very core. Dream remained kneeling, his head focused on the ground as he tried to keep himself upright. If he’d ever wondered what the arrival of a God would sound like, this would be it. A loud, thunderous noise that came from the heavens and dominated its surroundings. He didn’t dare look up until he was asked to do so, but he found that another voice speaking a language that he could understand confused him more than anything else could have.

“You may rise.” 

Dream looked up, not sure what to expect, but the sight he was greeted with certainly wasn’t it. The man was just that, a man, who dressed in a regal red coat with fur running along the collar, boots that rose above his knees and puffy trousers that tucked into them. His chest was covered with a white collared shirt and a red sash as a belt, but it was his hair that took him most by surprise.

He’d never pictured a God to have  _ pink  _ hair.

The crown that sat on his head was lopsided but as he turned his head and it didn’t move, Dream realised that it was an illusion. Maybe this  _ was  _ what he’d expected a God to look like and he was playing on his own mind, though if the God could see inside his head he was afraid of what would happen next.

As commanded he got to his feet, George following suit behind him, and he waited for the man to speak.

“You’ve come a long way, Dream. How can I help you?”

“You know my name?” Dream asked cautiously, but the smile on the God’s face only grew.

“I know more about you than you might think, more about your friend than he might think as well.”

“Can you tell me what I am?” George asked, taking a desperate step forward. It wasn’t the moment for it but the promise of answers drove him beyond his own rational thoughts - he needed to know. “Why I’m changing, why I’m called the  _ Lost One _ ?”

As George spoke there were audible gasps around them, the Endermen witnessing the conversation beginning to talk in hushed tones with each other as the God laughed.

“All in good time. Dream here has something he’d like to speak with me about first, isn’t that right?”

Dream swallowed, nodding slowly and reaching into his bag with one hand. His fingers wrapped tightly around the Totem of Undying and he took in a deep breath, there was no going back from here. Although he’d hit the point of no return a long time ago.

“I died, and my friends brought me back to life but one of them didn’t make it. I want you to bring him back for me.”

“And what do I get in return?” He asked, but Dream knew that he already knew the answer. He wondered why - if he could see through him and knew what he was thinking, what he wanted to ask, and was planning on doing - he was allowed to continue with his scheme. Was this some kind of test?

“Me.” He said, and George’s head snapped around in an instant. “You get me.”

“What makes you so special, Dream? You are nothing, you’re just a Human, I have plenty of those to play with when I want to.”

“Then you can kill me.” Dream said. “However you want, as painfully as you want, some free entertainment for a small favour.”

“Dream!” George yelled, and as he tried to run forwards he felt arms grab and restrain him, holding him in place and preventing him from trying to put a stop to the deal being made before him. “Dream, stop this! Bad wouldn’t  _ want  _ this!”

“He doesn’t trust you.” The God said to Dream, smiling as he walked to stand beside him. He stood just a little taller than him, but despite their difference in power and status Dream felt almost on par with this man. But Dream was not, and could never be, the same as the God beside him.

“He doesn’t want to watch me die again.”

“And you’ve thought of that already?”

“You already know I have.” Dream said. Standing toe to toe with a God shouldn’t have been so easy, but it  _ was _ . He was being challenged, not threatened, and Dream wasn’t about to back down.

“You’re confident in your plan?”

“Not at all.”

“And yet you’re still willing to try it?”

“What can I say, I’m stubborn.” Dream shrugged, and the God raised his eyebrows as something that mimicked admiration crossed his face for a moment.

“I hope you’ve made the right choice, Dream. I’ll take your deal.”

Dream felt his hand tighten further around the Totem as he let out a breath, trying to remain as calm as possible. The God walked away from him, back to his place a little above him on the stairs to the throne and he watched with his hands behind his back.

“Your friend is alive.” He said simply, and as predicted the request was of little effort for the God. He nodded to a group of Endermen beside him. “Kill him.”

“DREAM!” George screamed, fighting once more against the grip he’d been kept in, but Dream stood his ground and faced the Endermen approaching to kill him. George’s sobs tore from his chest, he screamed his name over and over as he begged for mercy to be shown, for Dream to be spared, but his pleas fell on deaf ears and even Dream refused to turn around and say a goodbye. George wondered if Dream had meant it when he’d said he loved him, because if he had he surely wouldn’t be putting him through something as horrible as this. 

He had to watch him die a second time. 

Any thoughts he’d had about the Universe being kind to give him Dream back were immediately resciended. If he had been brought back to Dream only to watch him die then the Universe had a sick and twisted sense of humour.

George couldn’t see what was happening as the Endermen surrounded Dream, but he could hear a struggle. He could hear sounds of pain, of  _ Dream  _ in pain. He could hear Dream dying, screaming as the last breaths left his body and his life was ripped from the Universe to preserve his friend’s. George didn’t give a damn how much it hurt, he  _ cried  _ and felt the tears running down his cheeks flare and sting with pain. He deserved the pain, he should’ve been able to stop this, he shouldn’t be standing here helpless as the man he loved  _ died  _ before him.

He heard a thud as Dream’s body fell lifelessly to the ground and the Endermen stepped away, and when the contents of his satchel spilled onto the floor George felt as if all hope was lost. 

All life in the three realms might as well have been purged if Dream was no more.

George’s legs buckled beneath him and he felt bile rising from his stomach, his body supported entirely by the Endermen that held him upright. He swallowed down his sick, the burning of acid down his throat reminding him that he was still alive, and George looked at the God before him.

“Why did you kill him?!” He yelled, and the God simply chuckled. 

“Why don’t you trust him?”

Dream sat up suddenly, taking a deep breath and feeling his entire body tremble with effort as life rushed back into him. His eyes opened wide, one now purple and glowing as he looked at his surroundings. He twisted his head to see George - he was upset but he was  _ alive  _ and that was what mattered - before he looked back to the God. 

“Is Bad--”

“He is alive. I held up my end of the promise. This didn’t work quite how I thought it would.”

“You thought I’d die?”

“No.” He smiled, raising a hand to the Endermen that began to approach Dream from all sides once more. “Leave him be, let him go. You have killed him once, that was the agreement. Now Dream, run along before I change my mind.”

Dream stumbled to his feet, standing up and looking at George once more. He no longer looked upset, more  _ furious  _ and confused with whatever had happened, and Dream simply mouthed  _ I’m sorry  _ to him. As he turned back to face the God, he was met with a much less pleasant expression than he’d turned away from.

“I said  _ before  _ I changed my mind.”

Dream scrambled to pick up the few belongings that had fallen from his bag and ran for the exit as fast as he could, not bothering to look behind him for fear of what would happen if he did. George would be fine, he was sure of it, and he wanted answers that this God had promised. So he threw the pearl into the return gateway and disappeared from the island.

George was left alone, still in the grips of the other Endermen, and had no choice but to look up to the God with nothing but fear in his eyes. 

“Who are you?” George asked, trying to summon up all the strength he had to sound intimidating. “ _ What  _ are you?”

“Don’t you recognise me?” He asked, stepping down and walking towards George slowly. His footsteps echoed in the hall around them, and he said nothing more until he stopped mere inches away from him and used his hand to grab his chin. Squeezing tight with his thumb and forefinger, he tipped it back up to force George to look at him with a smirk on his lips. 

“My name is Technoblade, the God of the End. You were my experiment, and you are the Lost One, and it is time to welcome you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> right, this is the last of my pre-surgery written fics so if there's a gap between when this goes up & chapter 8 does, you know why! fingers crossed by now i'm totally fine & dandy & have gotten lots more writing done! 
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed this chapter & this bit of a cliffhanger! don't worry, i plan to stick with george for the next chapter so we can find out what on earth techno means by it all!!
> 
> also, i've started a discord server for a dream team prompt competition for artists and writers, come on over to discord.gg/AZYEr3A to join in!


	8. The Truth & The Experiment

Technoblade released the grip on George’s chin and turned away from him, pacing up and down the endstone floor for several minutes. His footsteps echoing around them was the only sound to be heard, and nothing more happened until he gave a wave of his hand and signalled for the Endermen to release him. When George was let go he stumbled forward just a little, but he made no move to flee. He wanted answers, and here he was, about to be given answers. He just wasn’t sure that the man before him was someone he  _ wanted  _ the answers to come from. 

“Who do you think you are?” Technoblade asked, his head looking over his shoulder to observe George. The man was smaller than him and he could tell that he wasn’t as confident on the inside as he tried to make himself look externally. It made Technoblade chuckle -  _ if only he knew _ . 

“My name is George.” He began slowly, holding himself tall and keeping his chin up. His shoulders were pushed back and George tried to use his twisted appearance to make himself bigger rather than smaller. Now wasn’t the time to shy away, not in the face of a God that promised him answers. “I am…”

_ What was he? _

Ten days ago he would have had an answer. He was George, a Human, who was best friends with Dream, Sapnap and Bad. They adventured together, they ran together, they worked together. But now? His reality of himself and his life had been shattered. He was the boy from a prophecy, the Lost One, experimented on by the God that stood before him for reasons he didn’t know, abandoned and raised by parents that weren’t really his into a world that might not even be his own. 

“I am George.” 

“Interesting.” Technoblade replied, a smirk crossing his face. “You are George, how sure are you of that?”

George blinked, opening and closing his mouth. He was sure of it, he  _ was  _ George, but after that had been said he was the opposite of certain. 

“I  _ am  _ George.” He said again, but even he knew the words didn’t fall quite so easily from his lips. They felt laced with lies already, forced and bittersweet. But what else could he be? Who else?

“Come with me.” Technoblade instructed, walking up to the throne slowly. He could hear George’s footsteps behind him, lighter and smaller than his own even as he tried to occupy the same command that he did. “Take a seat, that’s a good boy.” He praised, his fingers running through the hair on George’s head. Technoblade watched as George sat himself on the throne and shifted to make himself comfortable, looking out at the Endermen in the room whose eyes were on him and him alone. He pressed a hand to George’s shoulder, fingers clasping him tightly even before providing a firm squeeze. 

“How do you feel?”

“Feel?”

“Sitting here, looking out at these people,  _ your subjects _ . Does it bring back memories, Lost One?”

George blinked and looked around him, his hands settling on the armrests of the throne and his back straightening just a little. He tried not to think of the implications of what was being said to him, the deeper meaning of the words that Technoblade spoke, or how close he stood over him. For now he just tried to do as he was told. Did this bring back memories? 

“No…” He said slowly, almost as if he didn’t quite believe himself. Technoblade clearly thought that was the case too, as he let out a deep laugh and leaned in closer to George. 

“I think you’re lying to me.” He hissed between his teeth, the threat unspoken but  _ clearly  _ communicated.

“I… I remember when I was young, a child, I was held here.”

“You ought to remember a lot more than that, or did I play with your mind a little bit more than I anticipated?”

George felt a shiver run down his spine. He couldn’t remember whatever Technoblade was straining him to think of, but voicing that he feared would result in a punishment he couldn’t quite comprehend. There was a history between them that he’d forgotten, and something told him that the memories weren’t particularly pleasant. He licked at his lips and swallowed dryly, closing his eyes and trying to think.

“You are, you  _ were _ , a ruler. Do you remember this? The man I created?”

“You  _ didn’t  _ create me, I had a mother and a father in the Overworld, they loved me, they--”

“They found you as a stray, a weakling, a pathetic mess that  _ failed  _ me. Now look at you, you don’t even remember your own name.”

“My name is  _ George _ !” He said defiantly, and Technoblade moved around the throne to stand directly in front of him, reaching out with a hand and covering his mouth entirely with it.

“Your name… Is  _ Herobrine _ . You are my son. And you have  _ failed me _ .”

George wasn’t sure what hurt more, the metaphorical punch to the gut that came with the words or the physical slap that followed as Technoblade pulled away from him and brought his hand crashing against his cheek.

In the moments that followed George felt lost, confused, empty and alone. Any grip he had on his own identity seemed to slip through his fingers like sand being blown across a desert by the wind. He had no control over the forces of nature, nor where the grains landed, and he couldn’t pick up each piece individually without losing countless others. If he wished to examine just what he was it would take a thousand lifetimes, the stars would live and die and the Universe would collapse before he’d even taken in what it all meant.

So instead, he didn’t. Because no matter what he used to be, what Technoblade had tried to mould him into, he  _ was  _ George now. And George wasn’t a God, or a king. He didn’t rule over a kingdom at the request of his father, he loved and lived just as any mortal did. He  _ was  _ like them.

“You, Herobrine, are to return to your rightful place on this throne. Your subjects have long awaited your return and look at you, already transforming.” Technoblade praised, his tone having changed drastically from just moments before. “Those eyes, so beautiful, you’ll fit right in here.”

“Herobrine leads the Endermen to war against the Overworld.” George said flatly, staring straight ahead and refusing to meet Technoblade’s eyes. “I won’t hurt my friends.”

“But you will be  _ remembered _ , your life will mean so much  _ more  _ if you stand by my side. Everything you have ever seen can be yours if you work with me. You could even keep a Human as a pet if you are so attached to them. You saw how easy it was for your friend to do as I asked.”

“You did what Dream asked.” George snapped back. “You brought Bad back, you let him get away.  _ He  _ controlled  _ you _ .”

“Somethings are bigger than they first appear, Herobrine. You will come to learn this. If you won’t look at the bigger picture, you’ll never understand how the Universe works.”

George sat quietly on the throne for a short while, letting memories flow back to him slowly. He remembered almost nothing, and then absolutely everything as his life came rushing back to him in a series of waves. The first crashed over him and he remembered his true parents - a mother killed by Technoblade when she gave him a runt, a weakling,  _ George _ . His father, even then, had looked at him with shame. What sort of God produced a child like him? Frail, small, pathetic…

He remembered the experiments next, taking the DNA of Endermen and of the Dragon to combine with his own. Something to make him stronger, a fierce warrior that brought less shame to his family, someone that Technoblade could shape in his vision and use for his purposes. George was, by all definitions, a God, but finding a way to merge him with creatures of the End made him more powerful. It gave him an advantage in ruling over the End - he was just like them. 

George remembered commanding an army, leading thousands upon thousands of soldiers into the Overworld. He was a King, he  _ was  _ Herobrine, speeding towards victory until… Until he wasn’t. Until he failed, until his men were slaughtered and his plans lay in tatters. Life in the Overworld was decimated, extinguished, nothing but a smouldering ember at the end of a fire, but it had still been a defeat. The Nether was empty and the End was deserted, and even as the Universe was reset and the cycle began again he was punished. 

Tens of thousands of years of punishments for his failure, all at the hand of his father. This was to teach him how to be stronger, how to lead, how to grow, but all George could remember was pain. He was cast aside, forgotten by his father, seen only as a failed experiment, and lost to the Endermen he once ruled as king. With his abilities and true identity hidden he was left to die, but the God of the Overworld had seen something in him. Despite it all, he had seen  _ good  _ in George, and had ensured that he survived. He was taken in by mortal parents to be raised as if he were like the people of the world and his story would be consigned to legend.

He was the Lost One, and he was the Experiment, and now he knew the truth.

George looked to Technoblade who smiled, laughing and showing his teeth sadistically as his head leaned backwards and he his laugh turned into a cackle. 

“You have returned, Herobrine, to your rightful position on the throne. The time has come to show that you have grown, to show that you are ready to be the King you were promised to be. You will lead us into battle once more, and you will destroy those pathetic lifeforms in the Overworld. They have no protector, no guidance, they will be killed as easily as--” He paused, bringing his middle finger and thumb together for effect. “--snapping your fingers.”  _ Click. _

“I won’t.” George said, finding his heart once more. When he had begun this journey, when he had begun to change and his existence had shattered before his eyes, he had lost himself. He had been fuelled by rage that came from somewhere deep within that he couldn’t identify, he had become the monster that his father wanted him to be, and he had almost let it consume him entirely. It would have been so easy to do as he was asked, to follow in his father’s footsteps and to stand at his side to find a way to conquer the realms and control the Universe.

But that wasn’t  _ George _ .

“You are Dragonhearted, Herobrine. You come from Gods, from the End, your path is laid out before you. You have no say in this matter, no choice in your life. This prophecy will cycle back time and time again until you play your part. Until all of the Universe is the End, nothing will end.”

“That isn’t true.” George replied, standing up from the throne and shifting past his father. If he truly was a God, if he held the power of the Gods and the End inside of him then he was more than capable of standing up for himself, for his friends, and he  _ could  _ put things right. “I will find a way to end you before I lay a finger on my friends.”

Technoblade laughed, shaking his head and waving a hand to the Endermen that filled the hall. “Is that so, Herobrine? Perhaps you have yet to learn why you do not monologue your plans aloud? If you wished to end me, it may have been wise to simply do so rather than inform me of your intentions. But you were never the smartest of boys. I suppose you took after your mother too much.”

George growled. He had no recollection of his birth mother, no idea what she looked like or sounded like, but his father’s disliking of her told him that she must have been a wonderful person. She must have been kind, beautiful, and true, and to hear his father speak so ill of the woman that created him, the woman  _ he killed _ , he found his anger bubbling over once more and held his hand out to freeze Technoblade in place.

Except he didn’t, and Technoblade just laughed at the attempt.

“Please, I must have given you more credit than was due. I wish I could stay but I have an army to convene. My subjects will take care of you if you do not wish to join me.”

With little more than a wave, Technoblade disappeared and George was surrounded on all sides by Endermen. Dozens of angry monsters all staring at him ready to charge, and George realised very quickly that this was not a battle he could win. Even with all the powers in the world, or the strength of the Gods on his side, he didn’t know how to control himself enough to fight. If he tried he would surely die - even Gods had to be defeated somehow. His only option was to retreat, to return to the Overworld, to find his friends and warn them of the plans that Technoblade had made. That was his only chance of stopping history repeating itself, and now he knew what he was he knew that he  _ could  _ do something.

So as he looked at the Endermen circling him he thought quickly - how could he best escape? What did he know about End Cities that he could use to his advantage? He closed his eyes and thought - what did he know about himself?

Well, for one, he knew he could teleport. When he opened his eyes again he found himself outside the building, no longer in immediate danger as he turned on his heels and started to run. He could do this, he could escape without consequence. Looking into the skies around him at the tops of the buildings he saw something that stuck out - a ship - and began to make his way towards it. 

The Endermen that had surrounded him in the palace had located him once more and the world was suddenly filled with the deafening sound of dozens of vworps and teleports, creatures chasing him desperately through the void. But they were chasing  _ him _ , and that gave him another advantage, he could easily travel in a different direction to confuse them and teleport into places he couldn’t be seen. 

As he jumped and teleported, dashing around the horizon, the number of monsters chasing him directly became smaller and smaller. Now he was significantly less outnumbered he could fight, and as he stood at the top of a tower and looked down to the ground beneath him - three Endermen teleporting up to him quickly - he decided that he was in a position where he could win.

Holding out his hand he froze the creatures in place, looking down with a smirk on his face as he reached for his weapon that they’d neglected to take from him. Clearly, they hadn’t thought of him as a threat when Dream had been asked to hand over his tools. Diamond sword now weighed between his fingers, he let the Endermen move once more.

They approached him from three sides and he jumped back, using his now free hand to grab a tight hold of an end rod and twist his body around. He swung back and forth to gain momentum, and on his third swing catapulted himself towards a platform with an Enderman on. Its arms swung towards him quickly but he was quicker, using his sword to cut its legs at the bend and using its moment of pain to pull himself up beside it. Before it had a chance to retaliate he brought his sword up and through its neck, covering himself with blood as he kicked the torso down towards the ground and gave himself space to think.

Two more Endermen approaching him, he teleported, and they followed. They were fixated on him now and weren’t about to let him go, but the bow of the ship gave much more room to fight. His feet hammered against the purpur bricks as he ran, eyes scanning his surroundings to find some kind of an advantage. He was shorter than the Endermen, he could fit into tighter and smaller spots, but then he would be at their mercy. He wouldn’t have the visibility he wanted when he was teleporting and could be quickly overwhelmed once more. 

He grabbed hold of the ship’s mast and began to climb, pulling his body up with all of his strength as quickly as he could until he was out of reach of the Endermen. They had no surface to land on if they teleported here, they would be unable to corner him.

George shifted his grip from his hands to his legs, wrapping them around the pole and experimenting to see if he could hold himself up. It was difficult, he strained not to fall, but he had the power of the Gods and he was determined to find a way to harness it. He felt his face heating up with effort as he searched within himself, his eyes twitching and the purple glow intensifying into a white hot light as he found what he was looking for. Holding himself in place entirely with the strength of his legs, George dangled upside-down and froze the Endermen in place before he used his free hand to swing his sword down towards them and behead them.

Their screams were loud, echoing in the world around them, and George watched as their blood pooled below. As the blue began to drip down towards the island below he knew it would only be a matter of time before he was caught once more. He sheathed his sword and dropped back down to the ship, starting to look through to find something of use. There had to be something, he was certain of it, the ship wouldn’t  _ be here  _ if it wasn’t supposed to be useful. 

His search at least ended quickly with the discovery of potions and an elytra. The potions were tucked away into his bag to be saved for his friend’s use in the Overworld and he found himself slipping into the elytra without a second thought. He’d never used one before, only heard of them in stories, but the chrome like reflection of the silk cape could only be one thing and he had to trust that it would work properly. Satisfied that he had uncovered all the secrets of the ship he retraced his steps onto the bow, taking his sword and digging through the corpses of the Endermen until he found what he needed - a pearl - and not a moment too soon.

The familiar vworp of angry Endermen sounded behind him and he looked over his shoulder to see a half dozen standing there, with more teleporting in with each passing second. George knew that he wasn’t fighting his way out of this. Now it was time to escape.

He couldn’t help the smile on his face as he stood up and ran, laughing and clambering over the purpur bricks at the end of the ship as he jmped. 

He should have fallen the hundreds of feet down towards the ground and smashed against the endstone painfully. He should have died with a foul crunch as his bones hit the island. But he didn’t. Instead, he soared forwards, the elytra helping him to glide and the wind flowing through his hair. He twisted his body experimentally, seeing how to move to lift himself up or to descend quickly, and found as he leaned right he managed to bank in that direction too. While he steered clear of the buildings he heard the faint cry of Endermen trying and failing to follow him and he used the time to his advantage, throwing the pearl in his hand towards the return gateway and praying that he would be taken away from this place before anything more could happen.

The transition from flying to stumbling was uncomfortable and almost ended with George flat on his face, but he had returned to the initial island in the End and somehow managed to keep himself balanced. The Endermen here were unaware of his actions in the City and that bought him more time, but George didn’t wish to remain a second longer than he had to and risk another fight.

He ran quickly towards the exit to the Overworld, feet hitting against the bedrock ground before he launched himself into the void and everything turned black.

# # #

The first thing Dream saw when he opened his eyes was the sky above him, bright blue with the sun beaming down and forcing him to squint as he sat up. He could see the blinding light of a beacon above and realised where he was - the original village, where his friends should be, where Bad should now be alive - and he listened closely to his surroundings. He could hear footsteps on cobblestone, the laughter of strangers, and then--

_ “Bad!” _

He recognised the voice, the name, and was on his feet in a moment's notice running in the direction of his friend’s voices. When he rounded the corner to see two people on the ground and two people standing he smiled breathlessly, letting them have their moment as he appreciated the scene before him.

_ He’d done it _ .

“Dream?” 

His own name being spoken brought him back to reality and before he even had time to blink he felt himself being tackled to the ground, Sapnap’s body crashing against his as his arm wound tightly around the older man. Dream was winded as he fell back against the cobblestone path but he couldn’t help but laugh, both of his arms moving around Sapnap as he felt the younger nestle close to him, his head buried in his chest and his breathing hot against him. Dream didn’t move for the longest time, he could feel the telltale shake of Sapnap’s shoulders as he cried, and he just squeezed him as tightly as he possibly could.

He realised in that moment that he’d never truly expected to see Sapnap again. That no matter how much he had told himself he was doing this to bring them all back together, he never thought he would. He had thought that his plan was just a little bit too stupid to succeed, and the feeling of being held by his oldest and dearest friend made everything better.

“I missed you so much.” Dream said, Sapnap pulling back from him eventually to look at him. His cheeks were wet from crying, eyes red and baggy from sleepless nights filled with worry, but he still smiled. 

“You died a-a-and then you were  _ gone _ , Dream I thought I’d lost my brother, I thought I’d lost everything.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He said with a laugh, leaning forwards and pulling Sapnap into another tight hug. Holding him kept his worries about George at bay as he waited impatiently for the other to return to the village, and gave Skeppy and a6d a moment alone with Bad. 

Similarly to Sapnap, Skeppy too had jumped on Bad with the force of a thousand Illagers and the two had toppled onto the ground clinging to each other tightly, with a6d approaching much more carefully and holding Bad from behind. They’d only just arrived when Bad had come back to life, Sapnap had given them the news of his death and then they’d seen him walking towards them. They’d had a moment to process the weight of losing their friend before that pain was taken away and replaced with unadulterated joy, and the three men held each other like their lives depended on it.

“You’re never allowed to do this to us again Bad, you hear me?” a6d muttered quietly against his friend, and Skeppy remained unable to find the right words. His head was buried in Bad’s chest, tears of relief falling freely from his eyes as he listened to his steady heartbeat. He was alive, he was alive, he hadn’t lost him, and that was the only thing keeping Skeppy from breaking down entirely.  _ Bad was okay _ .

The five eventually convened together, Bad and Dream hugging for several long minutes as Bad cried with relief that Sapnap and George had been able to bring him back and Dream checked that everything he had sacrificed had been worth it. They managed to reign their emotions in, joy still shared between the five of them but controlled to a point that allowed for them to converse and realise that something still stuck out like a sore thumb. Bad was the one that voiced it first.

“Where’s George?”

The atmosphere between the friends changed, with Sapnap much more tense and Dream much more worried, and the other three stared at them as if they could provide an answer.

The answer, in the end, came in a different form.

“Here.” 

They turned around in unison, each greeted with the same sorry sight. George, twisted and broken between a form that looked Human and a form that looked Enderman, his eyes glowing intensely and his body covered in blood. There were thousands of unasked questions on the tip of each of their tongues but they remained unspoken as Dream ran towards him and wrapped his arms tightly around him.

“You’re okay.” He whispered, closing his own eyes and feeling himself start to cry as he buried his head into the crook of George’s neck. He could feel him beneath his fingertips and wanted desperately to press a thousand tiny kisses to every injury, to show him he was loved no matter what had been said to him in the End, and claim what they had almost lost, but now wasn’t the time for that.

The six of them needed time to take in what had happened, they needed time to heal, to process and to talk. But for now, standing in George’s hold and letting his every sense experience what the other had to offer, Dream was content. 

It felt like their journey was almost over.

But it had yet to truly begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> george fighting endermen: don't fuck with me, i have the power of god AND anime on my side - aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
> 
> but also hi, this is the first chapter i've written since coming back from surgery so if there's a few typos let me know. i've not been taking my painkillers which means i'm lucid (if in a bit of pain) but quickly getting back to normal! hope you enjoyed this chapter ;)


	9. A Confession & The Raid

The six men had retreated to the small pub that Dream, George, Sapnap and Bad had spent the first evening in, finding a booth in the corner and sitting together. It was cramped, but it gave Skeppy and Bad and Dream and George a reason to sit just a little closer together as they ordered food and drinks to share. They all had a huge number of questions for each other, and George couldn’t help but shake the feeling of his friend’s eyes on him. It made sense, why wouldn’t they ask him first? Even Dream only had one deformity, and the story behind Sapnap’s arm was known to most. George had changed completely behind their backs and none of them knew why or how.

“What happened?” a6d eventually asked, breaking the silence. “And I mean everything, what happened since you left?”

“We were going to play Manhunt like we do every year.” Bad explained, looking down sheepishly as if this was their fault. If they hadn’t played their game like normal maybe none of them would have died, but the world would still have changed. He felt Skeppy’s hand move on top of his own below the table, his fingers winding around his to squeeze and give him just a little comfort as he spoke. “But Dream died. Permanently died, he didn’t respawn.”

“We heard of a potion that could bring him back so we went to make it.” Sapnap chimed in, nodding his head toward his missing arm. “I got hit by a Wither Skeleton in the Nether, we had to cut my arm off to keep me from dying.”

“I killed Bad…” George whispered, feeling Dream’s arm wrap around his shoulders tightly to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault. George found himself looking at Bad instead, who offered him a gentle smile. There was no blame in his expression, and as he began to speak again he felt tears dripping from the corners of his eyes. It hurt, but the regret of his actions stung so much more. “I tried to kill Sapnap, there’s a prophecy and I’m… I’m not who I thought I was, it was eating me alive.”

Sapnap shifted a little in his seat, looking to George. He couldn’t find it in himself to forgive the man immediately but he seemed to have gained control of himself once again and he was willing to listen.

“We made enough of the potion to bring back one person, I brought back Dream, the voices in my head told me to.”

“Voices?” Sapnap asked. “So this wasn’t you?”

George shook his head and Dream spoke up next.

“When I came back I ran, I found a mansion, killed an Evoker and took something called a Totem of Undying. I read about a prophecy of the end of life across all three realms, about Gods of the Overworld and the End and the Nether. I went to the Nether and got what I needed to go to the End, and when I came back I found George in a village.”

“I’d been trying to find out more about what was happening to me, I needed to get to an End City to find someone to ask. So Dream and I travelled together. We met a God, Technoblade, the God of the End.”

“He brought Bad back in return for my life, but I used the Totem so I didn’t really die. I had to escape from the end before Technoblade had the Endermen attack me again.”

“I stayed, he… Told me things about who I am.”

George remained vague and he felt Dream’s hold tighten just a little as the others waited with baited breath.

“Well, what did he say?” Bad asked after several long seconds of silence, and George took a moment to compose himself.

“In the prophecy there was a man named Herobrine, who led the armies of the End in the war against the other realms. Technoblade said that Herobrine was his son, that Herobrine was me. That he experimented on me and that I failed him and---”

George’s breathing had quickened and he found himself trembling as he spoke, the words no longer forming as he wanted them to and he tucked himself into Dream’s side. 

“It doesn’t matter what he says, George. You’re not that, you’re our friend and we’ll help you.” Bad said gently. “Whatever this prophecy is, we can change it, right?”

Bad looked to Skeppy, Sapnap, and a6d who all nodded in agreement. They could change things, they  _ would  _ change things, and George took in a shaky breath.

“I don’t want to hurt any of you. I killed Bad and almost killed Sapnap, I killed Dream, what if I can’t stop it from happening?” He said quietly. “I told my father I’d never join him, that I wasn’t like him, he wanted me dead. I managed to escape but I think he’s planning something. He wants to continue the invasion without me leading like the prophecy says.”

“We’ll figure out a way to stop him.” Dream said, as if they weren’t talking about bringing down a God. “There’s always a way, we’ve already brought two of us back to life against all odds, we can find a way to stop a prophecy from unfolding.”

As food and drinks were brought to the table the six fell into a comfortable silence once more, pondering the words that had been spoken and the implications behind it all. Dream found himself somewhat surprised that he hadn’t been asked about his own eye, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to explain beyond a few assumptions he was making himself. It hurt, he knew that much, and he felt a dull throbbing in his head behind where the eye was. It wasn’t a comfortable sensation but George didn’t seem to have any problems with his changing appearance. He hoped that meant that he would get used to it fairly quickly too.

Food was eaten hastily, the adventures of recent days having left George and Dream hungry, Bad hadn’t eaten in days and Sapnap had been too full of worry to eat much. Even Skeppy and a6d, who had remained blissfully unaware of it all, wolfed down the food. The silence between them all was much easier now that things had been explained, and the tension between the group seemed to have faded. The anger between George and Sapnap had melted away and Bad’s forgiveness for George’s mistake left him relieved. He was exhausted, and despite mentioning to Dream just a few days ago that he didn’t sleep he had certainly fallen asleep against his chest, with Dream running his fingers through his hair comfortingly. No one questioned their newfound closeness and Dream was thankful for that, just wanting to provide George the comfort he could without people looking at them differently.

That said, they still needed to have a conversation about what had happened in the Stronghold. For all that Dream knew, George could turn around and say it was a mistake, and though he hoped that wouldn’t be the case he wouldn’t let himself get his hopes up until they had time to talk about things.

As they finished eating and began to talk about more mundane things, Skeppy felt a tug on his hand from Bad and looked up at him. There was something in Bad’s eyes that made it clear that the pair needed to talk and after another quick tug Skeppy got the message, getting to his feet with Bad and letting himself be led out of the pub.

As they left, Sapnap shifted beside a6d and chuckled quietly to him. “Team third wheel?” He asked, offering a fist out. a6d rolled his eyes before gently hitting his own knuckles against Sapnap’s.

“What is it about experiencing death that makes people realise?” He asked, gesturing his head quickly towards Dream and George. George was still sleeping and Dream had his head rested atop George’s, his eyes closed as his fingers circled intricate patterns on his shoulder. 

“I don’t know, but if you die you’d better not come back in love with me.”

a6d chuckled at that, shaking his head. “Right back at you.”

# # #

The afternoon sun that had been high in the sky when their friends had returned had now lowered, dipping towards the horizon and setting the sky ablaze. Silver clouds were highlighted with pinks and oranges, and the sky itself was a thousand different shades of red. The world was beautiful, peaceful, and still, and it was easy to forget the hell that they’d all been through in the last few days if they just stopped and stared for a few minutes.

It was exactly what Bad and Skeppy were doing, sitting side by side at the river bank in silence. The sky reflected in the water and as the current gently flowed out towards the distant sea, Skeppy watched Bad’s face in the reflection. He had so much he wanted to say, everything he’d kept inside flashing through his mind the moment that he’d heard Bad was dead, but he remained silent. Bad was the one that wanted to talk to him, so he’d give him the time he needed to go first.

And if they never managed to speak about the things Skeppy needed to talk about, he’d bring them up himself before they returned to their friends. It was now or never.

“I didn’t stop thinking about you.” Bad said after a few minutes of silence, and Skeppy looked up at him then. He would give him his undivided attention, no jokes or memes or any sort of annoyance. This was just…  _ Bad _ .

“What do you mean?”

“When we were looking for a way to bring back Dream. I kept thinking of you. George is completely in love with Dream, anyone can see that, and I just kept pushing through everything that happened because I knew if we didn’t manage to get Dream back, George would be broken forever. He’s one of my friends and I wanted to help him be happy, to make sure he didn’t spend the rest of his life feeling alone and unloved.”

Skeppy took in a breath, watching the rise and fall of Bad’s chest as he refused to look at him. “So… What does that have to do with me?” He prompted, and he watched and Bad’s hands came together on his lap. He held his wrist tightly and twisted his fingers nervously as he looked for the right words to say, but Skeppy allowed him all the time in the world.

“You mean a lot to me, Skeppy.” He said honestly, his shoulders falling in defeat as if he considered that saying these words meant losing their friendship, that there was some Universe in which Skeppy  _ didn’t  _ return the feelings. Before Skeppy could respond Bad continued, pushing through his own doubts to confess. “And if I was ever in a situation where I’d lost you, I’d want my friends to help me find a way to bring you back. A world without you in would be quieter, and duller, and less… Less  _ beautiful _ than this world is now. I wouldn’t have your voice or your jokes and even if you frustrate me beyond belief sometimes, I would miss the way your eyes brighten when you make me flustered or the way you laugh.”

Skeppy found himself utterly speechless for once, not expecting such an outpouring of feelings. He had  _ hoped  _ that Bad would say that he liked him, but this?

“And when you smile, I love your smile Skeppy, I would do anything to see you smile for the rest of my life…” He trailed off, clearing his throat and shifting just a little where he sat. “That might’ve been a little much, I’m sorry, I just… Seeing George losing Dream and then  _ dying _ , I thought that if you somehow liked me back but I’d never said anything… I’m sorry, I hope this doesn’t change anything between us. We can still be friends. We can pretend this was never said if it makes it easier for you.”

Bad still didn’t look at Skeppy as he spoke, though Skeppy’s eyes hadn’t left the older man. He was sure he could see tears rolling down his cheeks and wondered just how difficult the confession had been for him. If he expected that he was going to be rejected, he couldn’t imagine the pain he was feeling right now, or the fear that was going through his mind, so Skeppy reached over with one hand and placed it softly on Bad’s thigh before moving just a little closer to him.

“What if… What if I  _ want  _ things to change between us?” He asked quietly, and as Bad looked up to him with glassy eyes, Skeppy acted quickly. He wasn’t sure when the moment would end and if he didn’t do anything now then Bad would shield himself off too much for him to find a way back into his heart. So the younger closed his eyes and leaned in, squeezing his thigh as he felt his lips pressing gently against Bad’s.

There was a moment of shock during which Bad didn’t kiss back, but Skeppy didn’t pull away. Instead he lifted a hand to his cheek and brought his fingers brushing against his skin softly to reinforce his point. He  _ wanted  _ things to change between them, he  _ liked  _ Bad back, and when he felt the tension flowing away from Bad’s body and his lips beginning to press back he realised that the message had gotten through. Hands moved to grip Skeppy’s shoulders and scrunched up his hoodie between his fingers as he searched for purchase, and Skeppy found himself emboldened. He poked his tongue out from between his own lips and pushed gently against Bad’s, searching for permission before deepening the kiss and pushing their bodies just a little bit closer together.

To think he’d almost lost this, lost  _ Bad  _ without ever telling him how he felt… Desperation seared within him and heat pooled in his stomach as he chased more contact, more emotion, more affection. He moved the hand from his cheek behind his head to pull him closer and squeezed his thigh a little more firmly - enough to make Bad jump and electricity spark through their bodies.

They pulled away after a second to breathe, their foreheads resting against each other as they refused to part too far, and even as their eyes fluttered open to take in each other from this new closeness the smiles on their faces didn’t disappear. 

“Hi.” Bad said quietly, and Skeppy laughed in a way that made Bad’s stomach churn. His laugh was so  _ beautiful _ , but he’d never heard it like this before. So free and full and  _ happy _ .

“Hi.” Skeppy replied, leaning forward just a little to graze Bad’s bottom lip with his teeth. He wanted to create that feeling between them again, and he wanted more. He’d almost lost Bad and now felt like the perfect time to be greedy, and as his lips moved from Bad’s own to his jawline he felt the skin under his touch warming up.

“ _ Skeppy-- _ ” The name slipped from his mouth gently, without permission, and it spurred the younger on in his games. How far could he take this? The sun setting behind them reminded him that before long anything they did would be in the cover of darkness, and the moment would be for them and them alone.

“I love you, Bad.” Skeppy said honestly, his hair flopping in front of his face as he pulled back just enough to deliver the words. He watched Bad’s expression changing before his very eyes, his mouth hanging open and his eyes widening just a little at the realisation. 

“You love me?” He asked, his voice barely a whisper as he blinked. “What do you mean you  _ love  _ me?”

“I mean… I love you. And maybe I joke a bit too much and frustrate you too often but it’s always been easier than admitting that I love you. It’s easier to try and keep that distance between us than it is to think about what would happen without you.”

“I think you’ve admitted it now, Skeppy.” Bad laughed a little, his eyes beginning to sparkle just a little as the sun hit them just right, and Skeppy thought in that moment that they contained the very Universe themselves. It was a kind of beautiful he never thought existed in the world, and he moved his hands to hold Bad’s tightly. He couldn’t let go, never again.

“I know, but I already had to think about what would happen without you, and I don’t want to let that come true.”

“Skeppy…” Bad flushed, the smile on his face widening as he looked at the silhouetted man before him. The sun was dipping lower and the world was becoming darker, and every angle of Skeppy’s face was visible. His jawline, his cheeks, his dimples and the creases in the corners of his eyes. “I love you too, Skeppy.”

A moment passed with the two men sitting in silence, the sound of the river running over rocks and a gentle breeze sweeping leaves from the forest beside them away all that could be heard. Nothing more really needed to be said between them, not now. Their feelings were known and their intentions had been made very clear. Instead, Skeppy lay back on the grass and looked up at the sky, his hand tugging Bad down beside him and the two of them just admiring the clouds overhead as if there was nothing wrong with the world around them.

Who could fault them for wanting one peaceful night?

“Skeppy?” Bad asked quietly after another few minutes passed, turning his head to face the younger as Skeppy propped himself up on his elbow and looked at him closely.

“Yes, Bad?”

“Would you like to be my boyfriend?”

Skeppy’s smile widened at the question and he didn’t consider pretending for a moment. He could’ve joked and wound Bad up, but his eyes glistened and his heart beat faster in his chest. He moved his free hand to press against Bad’s waist and let his fingers trace intimate patterns on the tiniest part of skin that was visible above his jeans. It was a miniscule gesture, but the extra level of closeness it provided warmed both of their hearts.

“I’d like that a lot.” Skeppy said, before closing his eyes and leaning down to initiate another kiss. The Universe as they knew it might have been ending, but for now they had each other and everything was perfect.

# # #

Night had fallen over the village and the four men had begun to prepare themselves to sleep. The evening had been quietl and they were all taking time to think and process what had happened around them, Dream lying on his bed with a book in his hand as he flicked through the pages and tried to search for deeper meaning in the words once more. The peace was disturbed a few moments later, when Sapnap chimed up.

“Dream, what’ve you done?”

Dream looked up from his bunk, Sapnap on the top bed of the bunk opposite him and looking out the window.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, I’ve done a lot of things.”

“You went to a mansion, didn’t you? Did you take anything beside the Totem?”

“What?” Dream asked, his mind beginning to race as he scrambled up the ladder of Sapnap’s bunk and settled on his knees beside the other man, looking out of the window and seeing light in the distance. It was impossible to miss what they were looking at, and Dream’s heart almost immediately sunk into his chest. Without another word passing his lips he jumped down from the bed and dressed himself again, pulling on his armour and running out of the bunkhouse quickly. 

George and a6d were both coming back from an evening walk - their steps hurried as they too had seen the same thing on the horizon - and George was instructing the other into the blacksmith to grab weapons as quickly as possible. 

“Have you seen Skeppy or Bad?” Dream called, Sapnap now running to catch up behind him as George shook his head. He jumped straight to the bell in the centre of the village and began to ring out, calling to his friends while he waited for people to gather.

“Arm yourselves and find them. We’ve not got much time.”

There was no further conversation, there didn’t need to be one, they’d all seen the raiding party approaching.

Dream wondered what they had come for - revenge for him killing the Evoker or Vindicator? Perhaps for stealing their books and the Totem? Or maybe this was entirely unrelated. Somehow, the last option seemed unlikely: he wasn’t sure he believed in coincidence anymore.

He raced with Sapnap into the blacksmith where a6d was already helping himself to a sword, and Sapnap followed suit. Dream grabbed a bow and several dozen arrows, before taking a sword for Bad and another bow for Skeppy and looking back to his friends.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” He cautioned. “Keep people safe, keep the fight away from the village, the rest of us will be with you as soon as we find Bad and Skeppy.”

There was a quick nod from the pair who left the blacksmith with him and ran towards the outskirts of the settlement, standing ready to fight and feeling the presence of a third person.

“Illumina?” Sapnap asked, looking at him hopefully. “Any experience with these things?”

“More than I’d like.” He said gruffly. In the distance, George could be heard calling to the villagers to hide themselves and protect their homes, to take what weapons they had and prepare to fight if anything managed to break their defensive line. 

The raiding party stopped several paces away and a6d lifted his shield, Sapnap moving behind him as he saw the Pillagers loading their crossbows. They needed to engage in close proximity, that was the only time their swords would be of any use to them, but as arrows began to fly towards them the three ducked. 

“Don’t let them overwhelm you.” Illumina called to them both before beginning to run towards them. “Hide when they’re shooting, but charge when you can.”

As George teleported to their side, they followed their orders and began their attack. Six Pillagers between the four of them wasn’t impossible, but with several Vindicators close behind it became more difficult. Their weapons shone under the moonlight in a telltale sign that they were more powerful than the mobs they had previously engaged with on their journey and the four remained vigilant. 

Illumina and George led the charge towards the Pillagers as Bad, Skeppy and Dream appeared at the edge of the village. Bad ran into battle while Skeppy and Dream stood side by side with their bows and arrows, taking care to shout as they fired to give their friends warning of the arrows travelling towards them. The last thing either of them wanted to do was hurt one of their friends.

A Pillager was struck in the forehead with an arrow in front of George and he turned with his sword in his hand, another Pillager directly engaging him. At this proximity the Pillager knew that George had an advantage, so instead of loading its crossbow it tried to hit George with the butt of the weapon, but George lifted his shield and rather than the tool being used to hit him it simply ricocheted off the wooden surface.

“You’ve no idea who you’re up against.” George said to the monster, not even bothering to use his powers as he brought his sword down quickly and slashed its tunic, cutting into its chest before he pulled his sword back and lunged - the blade sinking through its rib cage and into its heart. There had been little effort on George’s part, his strength so much more than he’d ever thought it to have been.

A few paces away, Sapnap and a6d were back to back and facing off against two Vindicator’s. While a6d was able to use a shield to dodge the attacks, Sapnap was left exposed and he was painfully aware of it. The first attack brought an axe sweeping where his left arm would have been and he found himself thankful that he’d already lost the limb. He used that moment to swing with his sword, the metal blade only just catching the Vindicator as it dodged, and cutting off one of its ears. It reacted swiftly, bringing its axe down fiercely, but Sapnap blocked with his sword and used a6d behind him to give him enough leverage to lean back and kick the monster away from him. As it stumbled, more arrows came down from Skeppy and Dream and two stuck in its chest. It lay on the floor, dead, and Sapap spun around so he and a6d outnumbered the remaining Vindicator. Two to one, it was easy to overwhelm it and soon it too lay dead at their feet.

With the battle now somewhat more evenly numbered, the five men managed to quickly swarm and attack the stragglers of the first wave, while Skeppy and Dream turned their attention to the second group approaching on the horizon. More Pillagers and Vindicators began to surround their friends and they advanced while they could, loading their bows as they ran and calling out as they fired again. It provided the others with a moment to breathe and regroup before turning their attention to the new mobs.

While they wanted to keep the fight away from the village they were also conscious that straying too far would leave the settlement unprotected and the group retreated just a little - enough that they could hurry back to the streets if the people were flanked without their knowing. 

George teleported across the land easily, using his abilities to distract and divide the group and lure three Pillagers away from his friends, allowing them to fairly easily take the remaining monsters. They were equally numbered once more and that allowed the brute force of Dream and Illumina to quickly surpass that of the Pillagers. Dream traded his bow for a crossbow and Illumina turned his attention to Sapnap, providing him with cover as he parried with a Vindicator. Illumina felt an axe come crashing into his shoulder and reacted swiftly, hurriedly pushing back his attacker and making it stumble back onto the ground with the sheer force he’d used. He plunged his sword through its chest and didn’t wait a moment longer, nor did he think about the wound he’d acquired, as he removed his weapon and ran towards George. 

The last of the Vindicators were killed and the five men began to return to the village, worried that they couldn’t see another wave of enemies on the horizon and left wondering what direction they would approach from. 

George fought with ease against the three Pillagers, teleporting to avoid their arrows and holding them in place with an outstretched hand as he lined them up for slaughter. He put all of his strength behind each swing, hearing squelches as their throats were slit and their bodies collapsed at the knees, folding forwards and lying motionless on the ground. Illumina appeared beside him as if from out of nowhere, a knowing smile on his face as he reached out with one hand to press against George’s shoulder. No words were exchanged, but the meaning was clear. Once this was all over, they needed to talk.

The two began to make their way back to the village with their weapons still drawn when they heard it, the roar of a Ravager the telltale sign of the next wave approaching. It echoed in the night around them and they picked up their pace to run more quickly towards the people that would need their help. The rest of the men were already taking up defensive positions in the streets as the cackles of a Witch surrounded them and the grunts of Pillagers and Vindicators grew louder.

So far, the battle had been easy, but that was all about to change.

This time they were truly outnumbered and as the Ravager burst from the trees, charging through the narrow streets and heading straight towards Skeppy and Bad, the men were forced to flee rather than stand and fight. They needed more coordination than they’d had before and George found himself naturally taking command.

“Illumina, the Witch. Dream, give Sapnap cover to deal with the Vindicators, Bad, Skeppy, a6d, focus on the Pillagers. I’ve got the Ravager.”

No one questioned his orders, and George was quick to square up to the horned beast. It towered over him and with each footstep shaking the ground beneath his own feet he  _ knew  _ that one hit from the creature would be enough to badly wound him. Even if he  _ was  _ a God, there would be no denying the pain it would cause. He kept one hand free to use his powers and the other held his sword, bracing himself as the Ravager began to charge once more.

He let out a cry as he dodged out of the way at the last moment, angling his sword to slice through the leathery skin of one foot and feeling the resistance that came with it. He had to tug the diamond blade free as the creature wailed in pain, but it wasn’t enough to deter it from a second attack. It turned to face him again and swung its head back and forth, trying to catch George with one of its horns, though it instead managed to headbutt Skeppy and send him stumbling. A cursory glance to his friend showed that a6d and Bad were managing to cover and check on him, and so George began his own attack.

He teleported atop the beast and brought his sword down through its back, and though it yelled in pain he was aware that less of its crucial organs were at risk of being hit from such an angle. Still, this gave him the advantage that he was at less of a risk of attack, and he used his sword to help balance himself as he clambered to his feet on its back.

As it started to move, now charging towards Illumina where he stood over the Witch’s corpse, it roared, and the cleric turned to face the creature fearlessly. He had taken one of the potions from the Witch when it died and threw it towards the monster, George teleporting away as the raid’s own magic was used against it. He landed a short distance away and immediately headed back into battle, this time running underneath the creature and through the cloud of smoke from the potion to bring his sword through its stomach and its organs once more. As he felt the beast’s legs giving out from pain he teleported once more to avoid it collapsing on him, and took in a deep breath of air as he emerged from the poison.

From his new vantage point he could see yet another wave on the horizon, with a dozen monsters ready to attack. His friends were still fighting the current group of mobs and while they were making steady progress, it wasn’t quick enough. The battle needed to be taken away from them lest the village be overwhelmed and creatures begin breaking their way into the homes of the innocent.

George took the moment to jump from the ledge he stood on and let his elytra help him glide forwards, his sword angled down as he flew over a group of Witches. He leaned left and right to avoid their potions and spells. Though he felt the pain of one land on his side he managed to fight through it and behead one before he even landed. 

As the last of the Pillagers dropped dead in the centre of the village the mortal men regrouped and looked to the horizon, hearing George’s battle with the Witches and seeing what awaited them, and this time Dream slipped into the role of leader.

“Go in pairs, watch each other’s backs.” He commanded. The group separated with who they were already closest to, Bad and Sapnap, a6d and Skeppy, and Dream and Illumina each running together towards the half dozen Pillagers. They rained arrows down over the group but before they could find their targets they froze still in the air, dropping in front of them with the wave of Illumina’s hand. There were plenty of questions that arose from the action, but a pain in Dream’s forehead stopped him from asking any and the clatter of an axe against his shield brought him back into the moment. 

Dealing with the Pillagers and the Vindicators was becoming rhythmic, the six men easily finding tactics to confuse and overcome the monsters even as they were outnumbered. The biggest struggle came with keeping Sapnap safe, but he had found a way to dodge and weave and keep himself out of harm’s way even without a shield. He engaged primarily with the Vindicators, able to block their attacks with his sword in a way he couldn’t defend himself from the Pillagers arrows, but all good things came to an end and despite his best efforts he was overpowered and outsmarted. The Vindicator fighting him had seen his movements and pre-empted his defense, and so had instead moved to knock the sword from his hand and leave him defenseless.

Sapnap stumbled backwards, raising his hand to grab the handle of the axe that the Vindicator held to stop it from plummeting towards his face, but the monster was in the position of power. On top of him, gravity was on its side and when the axe slipped an inch, moving terrifyingly close to Sapnap’s neck, he thought he’d seen the end of everything.

When he heard a grunt and the slice of a blade through skin he expected pain, but it never came. Instead he felt blood landing on his face and saw a head rolling away from him, the body of the Vindicator now limp and Bad offering him a hand to help him to his feet. He didn’t have time to process what had happened as he stood back up, grabbing his sword once more and jumping straight back into battle with Bad by his side. 

Skeppy and a6d worked well together, Skeppy able to shoot at the Pillagers with his bow while they advanced and a6d covering them with his shield, only moving to his sword as they managed to get close enough to them to make an attack worthwhile. Skeppy hooked his bow at his side and used his fists to disarm one of the Pillagers, wrestling with it until it was on the ground beneath him. He held it in place with his knee before reaching over his shoulder with one hand and grabbing an arrow from his quiver, bringing it down with the full force of his body and plunging it into the monster’s chest. It was dirty and brutal, and blood covered his hand and his clothes, but it worked. 

Dream and Illumina made an excellent team, Dream managing to take out Pillagers from a distance with each shot and Illumina protecting them from arrows, using his sword to attack a Vindicator that had tried to flank them. The rhythm worked well and they made quick work of the monsters when they looked up at the battleground around them.

George was still fighting the last Witch, his sword flashing under the moonlight, as the next wave began to appear. The group were starting to get tired, their clothes and armour covered in blood and dirt, and the constant arrival of more enemies was starting to impact morale. Even Dream felt his body sagging under the weight of it all as he lifted his arms to prepare to fight again. 

“Keep yourselves alert.” Illumina called to them all. “This is going to get harder before it’s over, we can’t afford to let our guard down.”

As another dozen monsters approached, the group became separated from George as he found himself face to face with an Evoker, and a Pillager that mounted a Ravager ran past the six men towards the village. Clearly word of how the battle had been going had made it back to the Illagers and the raid was now more focused on causing destruction in the village itself rather than engaging in battle. As the monsters ran past them they were caught off guard and made chase, hearing the sounds of doors being beaten down and lights shattering as arrows were shot in all directions. 

George managed to cut through the Witch’s torso and send it back onto the ground, before turning his attention to the Evoker. He hadn’t fought them before, he didn’t know what to expect, and as the ground beneath his feet seemed to attempt to turn him into dinner he realised he hadn’t been expecting  _ that _ . He was quick to teleport away when the fangs sunk into his legs, and as creatures appeared at the side of the Evoker he scrambled through his mind to see if any memories from his previous life could give any light into this situation. If he knew what he was dealing with, this would be a whole lot easier.

Hearing a cry from the village filled him with a sense of urgency as he realised that people not involved in the fight were being targeted, and that his friends needed support, and when he managed to land on a  _ name  _ if nothing else, he felt more confident.

Vexes, the creatures were Vexes, and he searched his thoughts for anything more useful as he twirled and gained momentum before cutting through the first quickly. He reached out with his arm and held the others in place as he made his way towards the Evoker that appeared to be casting another spell. His sword struck quick and fast, even with one arm still focused on the Vexes he summoned up the power he needed behind the hits to kill the being, his eyes glowing white hot once more.

When the Evoker fell something dropped from its pocket, something that George recognised Dream holding before, and as he brought his sword through the throats of the Vexes he picked it up and pocketed it as he ran back towards the village. 

The sight he saw was worse than he could have imagined, the tides turning far too quickly as Vindicator’s smashed through doors to the homes of innocents and began to pull men, women and children out into the street with no regard for their wellbeing. It made sense that they didn’t care, George realised, as Pillagers aimed their crossbows at their heads.

As the cries of terrified bystanders filled the night both Illumina and George reacted quickly, George holding two Pillagers in place and Illumina managing to cast several back completely. While they were rendered unable to fight back or cause any more damage Skeppy, Bad, a6d, Sapnap and Dream were quick to step in with their own weapons and bring about a swift end to those that had been about to execute the dozen civilians kneeling on the cobblestone ground.

Dream and a6d used their shields to provide cover as they made their way back to the crowd once the Pillagers had been slaughtered, helping families get back to their feet and retreat to safety as the remaining men focused on engaging with the Vindicators. The sound of metal against metal clashed through the air and grunting and effort narrated the battle. As the monsters fell one by one Dream now turned his attention to the Ravager and the Pillager that stood atop the beast. Its crossbow was loaded and pointed at George and while he had full faith in his friend, he refused to see harm come to him.

He brought his own loaded crossbow and shot the Ravager in the face, and as the arrow lodged in its eye it reacted quickly. Half blinded it stood on its hind legs, bucking the Pillager off and causing it to fall to the ground with a sickening crack of its head. That alone was enough to render the monster unconscious but Dream wasn’t taking any risks, and quickly loaded his crossbow again and shot an arrow straight through its chest. It was dead, there was no doubt about that now.

As Dream was distracted with his brief success he neglected to hear the sound of hooves pounding against the path behind him, and the first sign he had of the Ravager charging was its head hitting the small of his back and sending him flying forwards painfully. He landed with a crash, his armour barely cushioning his fall at all, and his vision went black for a second. The pain that seared through his body was all encompassing and he found himself utterly unable to move. 

Illumina had told them not to lose their focus, and this was why.

He braced for the sensation of an axe through his head or the trampling of a beast over his chest, but nothing came. Instead of the end and the relief of it all he continued to feel pain, his body throbbing as his proximity to the beacon began to slowly heal his wounds and give him another chance of life while he heard the familiar sound of George engaging with the Ravager behind him. He wanted to roll over, to stumble back to his feet and help him, but the pain was too intense and he remained where he was until he felt a trembling hand shaking his shoulder.

“Dream,  _ Dream! _ ” Came George’s panicked voice, the man turning him over quickly and taking in what he saw with terror. Closed eyes, blood pouring from his mouth and a pale face. He wouldn’t lose him again, he  _ refused  _ to say goodbye again. The only thing giving him hope was the gradual rise and fall of his chest, and George reached into his bag to pull one of the healing potions from the End out. Unstopping the bottle he brought it to Dream’s lips, sitting the younger man up with his free arm and helping him to drink slowly.

“Come on, you’re alright, take it slowly, you’ll be okay.” He coaxed, keeping one eye out for any more attackers. Thankfully their friends had caught sight of their predicament and were more than capable of giving them the space they needed to try and rectify the problem.

“George…” 

“Shut up, you absolute idiot, what did you think you were doing?!” George chided, and if Dream wasn’t already so close to death he’d probably have smacked him himself.

“Keeping ‘em safe, that’s what we have to do.”

“I know, but we have to keep  _ you  _ safe too, alright?” George said, shifting the pair of them to let Dream rest against the wall of a building while he scanned their surroundings. This wave seemed to be thinning out and their friends were regrouping, and as colour came back to Dream’s cheeks he found himself a little less on edge. “Can you keep fighting? Be honest?”

“I can.” Dream said, and as much as George hated it he had to trust Dream. He stood up and offered the man his hand, letting him stand back up before he reached into his pocket and pulled out the Totem.

“This is what you used in the End isn’t it?  _ Keep hold of it _ . I’m  _ not  _ losing you again.”

Dream looked down to the little wooden statue in his hand and nodded, ignoring the pain flaring behind his eye and focusing on the battle once more. He might have another way to avoid dying permanently, but he’d rather not experience the excruciating pain that came with it a second time. 

Without another moment to waste, they rejoined their friends and looked out towards the horizon to see what they could only hope was one final wave. This had to be the end, they had to be close to being done, much more than this would kill them all from exhaustion and mistakes. As Illumina looked to see what approached them his shoulders fell for a moment and the others found themselves feeling almost hopeless before he began barking out orders that would give them the best chance of succeeding.

“Their last two waves are coming together.” Illumina said. “We have to prepare for the worst. Grab bows, get as high as you can and start shooting. George, focus on the Evokers. I can see three coming, there shouldn’t be any more, but try to get them stuck in each other’s traps. There're at least ten Pillagers and ten Vindicators, don’t let them get into the streets of the village or we’ll be outnumbered. Kill the Vindicators first, they have to enter to attack but the Pillagers will stay further out for longer. I’ll take the Ravagers, and Sapnap can keep watch for Witches. Come out of the village with me, they’ll be easier to engage on open ground. Keep an eye out for each other, don’t let anyone get hurt, as soon as we’re done this is over with. One last push, men.”

With that, Illumina made his way on foot out of the twists of the village with Sapnap in tow, and the others began to execute his orders. Those without bows quickly found weapons on the ground from the fallen Pillagers and made their way into people’s homes, finding upstairs bedrooms with windows that offered cover and good sight lines as they watched for the monsters emerging from the dark. 

George began to teleport out of the village himself, catching the attention of the Evokers and peeling off to lure them further away from the settlement. Three Evokers was an intimidating amount, even with his powers, but Illumina had been right - if he could lure them into their own traps it would be one hell of a lot easier to overcome them.

He let the monsters get close to him and begin their attacks, two of them summoning a half dozen Vexes and one summoning two lines of fangs that stretched between it and George. As he raised his sword to slice towards the creatures swarming him he danced over the fangs, his feet barely managing to avoid being gnawed on a second time. He still felt the sharp teeth catching on his clothes but as he moved across the ground he managed to pull one of the Evokers into the trap and he watched as the fangs bit hungrily at its legs. It bought him a little time to kill the Vexes with less of a threat breathing down the back of his neck, before he found himself tuning in to investigate his powers further.

What else was he capable of? What else did being a God give him the power to do? He put just a little distance between himself and the creatures that meant he didn’t have to risk the fangs attacking him again while he wasn’t paying attention, before focusing his mind as hard as he could. Again he felt his cheeks heating up, his vision intensifying as purple became white and he clenched his fist together. 

Despite the sky being almost entirely clear of clouds and stars twinkling above, a deafening roar of thunder sounded and a bolt of lightning came down from the heavens, hitting the Evokers and setting them on fire before him.

George stood in shock for a brief moment as their cries of pain surrounded him and the effort it had taken to conjure up such a trick left him feeling drained, but as his eyes began to return to their normal purple and his strength restored itself he brought his sword up and cut them through the fire. He was taking no chances, and the sooner they were dead, the sooner he could provide backup to his friends.

From the vantage points they had secured in the village, the strike of lightning was obvious to all four men and while it took them by surprise they had no time to think about what they’d seen.

“Ready--” Dream called, loading his crossbow and aiming out towards the hoard of Vindicators that approached. He heard the sound of bows being stretched from either side before he yelled out again. “Aim…  _ FIRE! _ ”

On his command, arrows were released and soared through the sky. While they flew he repeated his instructions and they quickly found themselves in a good rhythm, arrows showering down fairly consistently on the monsters before them. They managed to fire three rounds before the Pillagers, who lacked the height advantage they had, were close enough to consider returning fire. 

“Ready, aim,  _ hold - duck _ !” Dream instructed, the four hiding to the side or ducking below the windows they shot from as arrows came streaming back towards them. Between them they’d taken out seven Vindicators so far and the Pillagers were now holding their position in the field opposite. All that remained were Witches, Ravagers, and the stragglers. Illumina, Sapnap and George would be in a good position on the ground to help with that, and suddenly it felt like the end truly was in sight.

“Fire!” Dream yelled again and four more shots flew from the windows, with arrows lodging in two of the Vindicator’s heads and one of the Pillager’s legs. They were so close, and as Dream continued to lead them in their firing he could see Sapnap beginning to engage with the Witches.

Much like George had with the Evokers, Sapnap managed to lure the Witches into their own traps. They used splash potions to hurt him, but the cloud of smoke they created was wide enough to hurt themselves with if he kept close to them. It wasn’t the smartest of plans, not least because it still resulted in him breathing in the poison, but with a few well timed swings of his sword and a quick sprint toward fresh air he managed to take out the first of the Witches without too much trouble. The problems began when the two remaining Witches parted ways, now wise to his tactics, and he was being flanked. Retreating would prove much more difficult now, and as they began to coordinate their next move through a silent conversation he realised he didn’t have time to risk waiting to see what they did. 

He lunged forwards with his sword, quickly bringing the blade down into the Witch’s shoulder and cutting deep, but not all the way through. He heard the Witch behind him attack and the familiar shattering of a glass bottle, followed by a thick smoke that clung to the insides of his lungs and left him feeling weak and lethargic. Now wasn’t the time to give up, and he swung again at the Witch in front of him. This cut hit its neck and pierced just the right vein to have blood spilling down its chest quickly. It turned pale, and the monster before him collapsed in little more than a few seconds. Sapnap was left alone with one final opponent, but the poison was starting to take an effect on him and he spluttered and gasped for air, trying to run out of the cloud as quickly as he could. Even when he did feel fresh oxygen filling his lungs he was still struggling to recover fully, his body still heavy and his head remaining light. Maybe this was it, and given everything he’d been through the prospect of dying to a Witch of all things almost felt embarrassing.

Sapnap heard a grunt behind him and looked over his shoulder, expecting to see the Witch about to crack another bottle of poison over the back of his head to finish him off, but instead he saw George. The man held the Witch’s head between his hands and twisted effortlessly, a sickening crack the telltale sign that its neck had been snapped in an instant. The body fell to the ground motionlessly and George moved to Sapnap’s side, a hand on his shoulder to help him stand.

“Take a breather, get some air in your lungs, get your strength back. We’re almost there.”

Sapnap nodded, grateful for the kind words as he leaned into his friend. It seemed strange to consider George a friend again after all they’d been through, but he  _ did _ . They’d been friends for too many years for one attempted murder to get in the way. Two he might draw the line at, but for now George was saving his life and he offered him a small smile as the older man ran to join Illumina in his battle against the Ravagers.

There were two great beasts standing before him - one mounted by a Pillager, and one by a Vindicator - and George had a feeling he knew what the cleric was intending on doing before he’d even begun to execute his plan. Standing between the two creatures sounded almost like a death sentence, but equally it could work out in their favour. The Pillager and the Vindicator both looked ready to charge at Illumina as George teleported to his side, brandishing his sword in one hand as he faced down the beast with the Pillager on it. The crossbow was aimed squarely at his chest, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be worried.

“You’re thinking what I’m thinking, aren’t you?” George asked, and with Illumina pressed against his back he could feel the nodding of his head.

“Of course, Herobrine. Would you like to do the honours?”

George flinched just a little at the use of his real name by someone that wasn’t his father, but did as he was asked without question.

“Three, two,  _ one.” _

The pair began to move at the same time, both running towards the Ravager that stood before them with their swords in their hands ready to attack the beasts if they began to run. The Pillager shot at George and he teleported just enough to the side to avoid being hit, grabbing hold of the horn of the Ravager and pulling himself up its face. The monster was understandably less than pleased with feet dangling in front of it and roared, George’s feet slipping and falling into its mouth. He managed to react quickly and pull himself free before the mouth closed around him, giving the creature a swift kick just to get the point across.

By the time he had clambered on top of the beast the Pillager had reloaded its crossbow and shot towards George once more, who had no time to react on this occasion. The arrow lodged itself in his chest and it stung, the pain so much more from being hit at such close proximity, but it was barely enough to make him falter. He grunted quietly as he swung his sword and slashed upwards, creating a deep wound up the chest of the Pillager and ending with his sword lodging beneath its chin. George waited for a brief moment before pushing the weapon deep into its throat and watched as the corpse fell forwards onto his sword. 

He cast a glance behind him to look at Illumina’s progress and watched as the man engaged with the Vindicator, parrying several times before using one hand to snatch the axe away from the monster and the other to behead it in one swift movement.

As the two settled on their respective Ravagers they made eye contact and nodded, Illumina raising a hand to signal that it was time to move. George shifted on the saddle on the back of the creature and kicked one of his legs into its side forcefully, clinging for dear life as it stood on its back legs and tried to shake him off before beginning to run forward.

The Ravager he was on saw Illumina as a threat, and Illumina’s Ravager saw George as a threat. Both charged head on for each other, picking up speed quickly as they ran through the tall grass of the plains, angling their horns to get the most painful hit possible.

When the creatures collided head on, George and Illumina stood several dozen meters away, both catching their breath as they watched the beasts take each other out with all the strength they had in them. Both collapsed to the ground, and even though they were already certainly dead, both men ran back to their sides with swords in their hands: just to be sure. 

As they hacked and slashed at the corpses before them, five pairs of footsteps ran towards them with swords, axes, bows and shields held by the men they belonged to. The last Vindicator had been killed from their vantage point and only seven Pillagers remained.  _ One each _ . The battle was so nearly won.

Arrows flying towards them grounded them and kept them from celebrating prematurely, one hitting George in the shoulder. Again he brushed it off as little more than an inconvenience and pulled it and the arrow from before out of his body, before the group charged straight for the remaining monsters. The sheer bravery of them all was enough to startle the Pillagers and they turned away,  _ running from them  _ rather than standing their ground and fighting. They had fought so long and so hard, there was no way they would be giving in now.

As the Pillagers attempted to flee, Dream, Skeppy, a6d and Bad drew their bows and crossbows once more and began to fire towards them while Illumina, George and Sapnap continued to run after them with their swords. As arrows hit the legs of the monsters and left them stumbling to the ground, the three men methodically swung their weapons to slice at their heads and stab through their backs. In the end, their bodies lay massacred among the grass and blood seeped into the soil beneath their feet. 

The silence that fell between them all was one filled with exhaustion, weariness, but  _ victory _ . Bad and Skeppy embraced, the two men burying their heads in the other’s shoulders as they sunk to the ground. Dream brought a shaky hand to his face and rubbed at his forehead to relieve some of the pressure he felt, and Sapnap took a moment to just appreciate breathing without poison in his veins or mobs trying to kill him. a6d stood tired, his sword planted in the ground and keeping him standing as his body swayed with exhaustion. George looked to Illumina, wiping dirt from his face and letting him know that he had a lot of questions and that a long conversation would be needed, and the cleric simply nodded. 

The village was safe, the damage dealt had been minimal even when the raiders had managed to make their way into the streets, and they had won. 

“I think it’s safe to say, gentlemen, that you’ve all earned a good night of rest.” Illumina said, resting a hand on George’s shoulder before he began to walk back towards the village and left the six of them alone. The only sound that could be heard for several moments was the heavy breathing of the men, before a6d grumbled his own addition.

“Couldn’t have put it better myself.” He said, pulling his sword from the dirt and starting to walk slowly back to the bunkhouse. Collapsing into a soft bed was all that was on his mind - it was all that was on a lot of their minds - and the group soon began to filter after him. First Sapnap, and then when Dream realised that George wasn’t following anytime soon he too left. Skeppy and Bad got to their feet together, fingers intertwined and hands closed together as they trudged back through the battleground to rest.

George was the last one still standing, and he let his head tip backwards to look up at the stars. They seemed familiar, as if he’d seen the same stars before, and he wondered if it was another memory from lifetimes ago seeping into his present. It haunted him, it clung to his bones and it reminded him that while they were safe now, so much more lay on the horizon for them.

The prophecy was beginning to unfold and while he refused to play his role, too many parts had already been put into motion for fate to be unavoidable. 

He just wondered how much longer he and his friends had left before the end of times tore them apart forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy mother of GOD this chapter is over 10k
> 
> also, shoutout to any skephalo shippers that read 91k of fanfic for that confession/kiss, i hope it was worth it! lots more to come now that the group is all together, i promise!


	10. A Lie & A Warning

The church was as quiet as George had expected it to be when he entered, the door creaking closed behind him and his footsteps echoing as he walked down the aisle between the pews. It felt different from when he’d last been here, but it  _ was  _ different. He knew who he was, he knew what he was, and he knew what his existence meant for the people of this world. Stepping into the church felt like coming home now, and here he felt safe. Reaching the altar he stopped, his hands resting against the wood and feeling the knots and the bumps that littered the surface. Everything was silent for a moment, before he heard footsteps approach from behind and he was accompanied by the man he had come to speak with.

“You knew what I was?”

“From the moment I first saw you.” Illumina replied gently. “I’d recognise your face anywhere, even when your true appearance had been hidden there was only one person you could have ever been. I thought I could stop the prophecy from unravelling there and then by keeping the potion secret, but I suppose even a God can’t stop fate on some occasions.”

George hummed to himself, his fingers tightening just a little. Maybe that was true, but he would give everything in his power to stop whatever future lay in front of his friends. A life without them wasn’t one he was willing to lead, even if he had done so before. He would find a way to save them all.

“Do you know who I am, Herobrine?”

“That’s not my name.” George said quickly, looking up to Illumina. “Whatever you know of who I used to be, whatever my father tried to make me, I’m not him. I won’t turn my back on this world, I’ll protect it with my life. I’m George, even if I am a God.”

“Your father will stop at nothing to bring you back onto his side, you have to be prepared to sacrifice everything for your morals if that is to be the case.”

“I will.” George replied, his eyes cast downwards as he looked back to the wooden altar. “I promise, I will.”

There was a long moment of silence between the two of them again, Illumina walking past George to sit on a pew and waiting for the other man to join him before he began to speak once more. 

“Your father killed the God of the Nether, he wanted to kill the God of the Overworld. It sent the man into hiding because without anyone to lead a resistance against him, the other realms would fall into his grasp easily. It will be why he’s content in leading this attack without you, he believes he’s strong enough alone to overcome two worlds. If the God of the Overworld wasn’t still here, hidden away, he most likely would be.”

“I know that’s you.” George said. “It’s obvious. And I’m still here, I might not be the God of the Nether but I can help. Two against one, those are good odds.”

Illumina chuckled a little, closing his eyes and sitting quietly with his head hung low for a long moment. George wondered what he could be thinking of, if he was thinking about times gone by and wars that had been lost long ago, but he had enough respect to let the man have his privacy. 

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve used my powers.” Illumina said honestly. “I had to keep myself hidden, if he knew I was here he would’ve killed me in a heartbeat, but I don’t think I can hide any longer. I think he will attack sooner than we can be truly prepared for. My only hope is that he believes that the battle will be won quickly and easily, that he won’t expect us to put up the fight we will.”

“Teach me.” George said quietly, looking at Illumina hopefully. “Teach me how to wield my powers, how I can take the fight to my father and kill  _ him _ . If he’s gone, this prophecy will stop unfolding and the Universe will survive, won’t it?”

An uneasy silence filled the church, and Illumina let out a long breath. “I think it’s the only chance we have.”

The uncertainty in his words shook George to his core, but what other choice  _ did  _ they have? It was a risk he was more than willing to take. He just hoped that it would pay off.

# # # 

Sleep had come easily to the men in the bunkhouse. Sapnap and a6d had already succumbed to unconsciousness by the time Dream had returned, and Bad and Skeppy had tucked themselves into the same bed as they clung to each other tightly in their dreams. Dream had fallen asleep quickly, but had sat bolt upright with shock soon after.

Exhaustion still clung to his bones but his breathing was hurried and his mind raced a thousand miles an hour, a hand grasping at his forehead as the images from his dreams chased him even as he shook his slumber away. 

He couldn’t escape the gnawing feeling in his chest as he gasped for air. Rather than remaining in the same room as his friends, who could wake up and see him like that at any moment, he snuck out from the bunk, passing George’s empty bed and making a mental note to keep himself hidden from the man if he saw him while he was out walking.

The cold air of the night was crisp and Dream shivered as he walked barefoot through the streets, narrowly avoiding shards of glass, glowstone, and splinters of wood from the battle before. It was late and the cleanup could begin the following morning, so for now the aftermath of the raid was clear for all to see. Bodies lined the streets and blood congealed in the gaps between the cobbled path, but despite the destruction everything was peaceful now. Dream had to remind himself that they’d won, that they’d done something good, and he slunk through the shadows of dark streets to make his way out into the fields that surrounded the village. 

Out here he felt alone, he felt small, but the pain in his head only intensified and he came to an abrupt halt as it became too much to deal with silently anymore. Letting out a groan of pain he sunk to the ground and closed his eyes, leaning back with his hands pulling at the hair on his head. He managed to tug a few strands out before the pain began to morph and change, twisting from a throbbing into something more solid, more understandable, something that felt strangely like…

_ ‘Dream, we meet again.’ _

The voice was all too familiar, though he knew he was alone. But the voice didn’t belong to a person, not now, it belonged to the pain in his head, to the God that wished to communicate with him.

“Technoblade…” He said aloud, unsure if his response would even be heard, but the answer came in the form of the conversation continuing.

_ ‘You seem tired, can’t you sleep?’ _

“You know damn well I can’t sleep.” He replied, annoyed at the patronising tone the man had taken on. “You’re in my head.”

_ ‘Can I not inquire into the wellbeing of my favourite Human?’ _

“What is this about? Whatever you want, I won’t give it to you.”

_ ‘You wound me, Dream. And after I brought your friend back from the dead for you.’ _

Dream hated to admit it, but Technoblade made a point. He  _ had  _ brought Bad back from the dead, although one act of kindness couldn’t make up for everything else he had heard about the man. He wouldn’t be remembered fondly, no matter how hard he tried to twist his story, and Dream felt a pulse of pain behind his eye once more.

_ ‘You know, my son was only disobedient because he was as powerful as I am. But you, you’re Human, you’re so much weaker. The pain you feel now is nothing, and if I wished I could turn your mind into a paste from here. Would you like to find out what that feels like?’ _

He remained silent, stubborn, but as he felt heat growing in his head he realised that the threat wasn’t as empty as he’d initially considered and cried out. Tears filled his eyes and streamed down his cheeks as his hands reached for some kind of purchase. There was nothing  _ physical  _ he could do to stop what was happening to him. He couldn’t grab the God, nor could he hide from his powers, and as Dream began to quiver on the ground words fell uncontrolled from his lips.

“What do you want?!” He begged. “Stop, please! Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you!”

The pain vanished in a second and Dream remained on his back panting for air, sweat beading on his forehead and his entire body trembling in pain. He didn’t mean what he’d said, he  _ couldn’t  _ mean what he’d said, but it had been said and now he simply awaited the reply in his head.

_ ‘You will do as I command, and I will keep you safe. For now, continue to live your life as normal, but when the time comes to fight you will stand by my side. You will be rewarded for your efforts.’ _

Dream didn’t reply, how could he reply? He was being asked to forsake his friends and his world by a God, what was he supposed to say? Saying no would leave him dead in a field, saying yes would jeopardize the people he loved, remaining silent gave the illusion that he could somehow continue without making a decision.

He felt pressure increasing behind his eye again and this time, he felt something snap. Technoblade was in his mind, searching around for the right string to pull to make him agree, and Dream realised that whatever happened from this point onwards he would have less and less control over, and less and less of a say in.

Maybe he would be able to come clean to his friends before it was too late, maybe he could ask them to kill him to save themselves, maybe they could find a way to defeat Technoblade together before anything happened.

Dream swore he heard a crunch in the back of his mind, and suddenly he didn’t care anymore. 

The strings were being pulled, and he would dance exactly how his master commanded him to.

# # #

Dawn broke slowly and then all at once over the sleepy village. Clouds hung overcast in the sky as people began to clean up after the events of the night before. Bodies were carted away and the air was filled with the sound of tools fixing lights and doors. Parents held their children a little closer, wary of the episodes that had filled the recent weeks. The Wither, and now a raid: the arrival of the young men to their village had marked the start of something cursed and the six of them felt eyes on them wherever they walked. Even as they tried to help, they could tell that their presence wasn’t appreciated.

As the damage was undone and the village slowly began to return to normal, crowds began to head towards the church and the six of them followed. While they had spent an awful lot of time there they had yet to hear a sermon from the cleric, and given what they knew was unfolding in the Universe around them they wanted to hear what he had to say to the villagers. Would he tell them the truth of what lay before them, or would their future remain shrouded in darkness and hidden from them until it came to pass? Was it worth warning people of a fate they couldn’t avoid?

Skeppy and Bad walked side by side, with Skeppy’s arm wrapped around Bad’s and his other hand holding his bicep. The closeness made the change in their relationship obvious to their friends, and it left a sour taste in George’s mouth.

Dream had been avoiding him all day. Since the sun had risen and the group had been together, Dream had avoided him. He had been quiet, reserved, and had avoided his touch. It had left George feeling hollow and forgotten, and had hurt him to his core. Had Dream decided that he didn’t love George? Had he realised that whatever infatuation he’d felt for him before had disappeared? If that was the case, he’d rather the younger man just  _ tell him _ , but instead he was left to wonder.

Whatever it was, the distance between them had grown both physically and emotionally, and Dream stood several paces in front of him at Sapnap’s side, talking animatedly about the arm that he was preparing to craft to replace the one he’d lost. George had his hands in his pockets as he walked beside a6d, who was smart enough to recognise the tension that had sprouted overnight between the two and didn’t push for a conversation. He just gave him the space he needed, and George was thankful for that. If nothing else, at least he still had his friends.

The church took on an entirely different atmosphere when filled with crowds of people. Instead of echoing footsteps bouncing around the stone hall, conversations flowed and people smiled. Children ran together and laughed and played while they awaited Illumina’s appearance at the altar, and the six men found themselves squeezing close together on one pew given the lack of space. While the people around them spoke, they remained silent, and waited uncomfortably for the service to begin.

When Illumina emerged the crowd fell quiet and found their seats, though the number of people now packed into the building ensured that there was no echo when Illumina began to speak.

“Thank you all for joining us today, I am afraid that this service will be… A little unusual, but given the events of recent weeks I think you will all understand why that is the case. I come to you with the burden of knowledge, an insight into our future, and I must warn you that what I have to say is true. It has been true before, this is not the first time the story has played out, but there is a chance that this may be the last time it happens.”

The crowd waited with baited breath, the cries of an infant breaking the silence before hurried footsteps scuffled out of the door of the church to avoid disturbing the sermon.

Illumina removed the small frames from his face and let his head hang down for a moment, his middle finger and thumb pinching at the bridge of his nose as he found the strength he needed to tell the people before him the horrible truth and prepared for the backlash he knew he’d receive.

“Our world is ending. The prophecy that has been passed down for generations is unravelling and soon there will be nothing before us but war, death, and the end of all times. I am not telling you this to frighten you, I am telling you this because I believe you deserve to know the truth that is approaching us, and because the only way we stand a chance to win is to work together. I want to give you all hope that we can change things, that what has been written and what has happened before doesn’t have to take place again. I cannot promise that this will work, or that we can win, but united we stand a better chance than we do divided.”

As Illumina fell silent whispers began to fill the hall, people holding their loved ones close as they took in what he had said. Illumina had been the cleric for this village for longer than anyone knew, and he was trustworthy to them all, but doubts were present in everyone’s mind. Doubting gave them hope to cling to that he could be wrong, that the prophecy was wrong or that it would take place long after they had all died, but how could they doubt when the evidence was presented before them? The story was known and the signs of the end were as clear as day. 

“What do we do now?” Came a feeble voice from the crowd, heads turning to face the woman that asked. “Where do we start? We’re just people, we’re not trained to fight, how can we win against armies and Gods from other worlds?”

The rumbles of the congregation grew with that, agreeing that a fight of that scale was something they were unable to do. How could they? They were farmers, cafe owners, blacksmiths, bakers, not soldiers that could march off to war. If their entire existence was threatened, if their whole world was going to be consumed by a prophecy laid out by the Gods, who were they to stop it from happening?

As the chatter intensified George got to his feet, his eyes wide as he joined Illumina at the altar and looked to the older man for confirmation that he was going to do the right thing: a nod was all he needed.

“All we need is to be people.” George called out to them, and his voice caught their attention. People fell quiet once more, save for the sounds of sniffles and muffled sobs as some began to quickly realise what fate awaited them. “Gods are powerful, but they can be defeated. Armies can be taken down. We need  _ people  _ whose hearts are in the right place, who are good and kind and want to give their children a chance to flourish and grow. You are all  _ good people _ , I know that if we work together we can find a way to win and to rebuild a new world, a better world, one in which we can all stand together across every realm peacefully.”

He looked out at the crowd, hundreds of faces looking back to him with the tiniest spark in their eyes now visible.  _ Hope _ .

“So, where  _ do  _ we start?” Asked one man, repeating the question from before with a much different tone. The defeat and acceptance was gone, this was the first page of a new chapter and they  _ would  _ overcome the prophecy. George felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced at Illumina beside him, before looking over at his friends and smiling as he spoke one last time.

“We assume we’re going to win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well then ladies & gentlemen, thank you so much for reading the second fic in this series. i hope you're all strapped in tightly because i've plotted out the 14 chapters that make up "this is the end" & have started writing it. i may have cried a little it while plotting the exact details of the ending, so i hope that you enjoy the last bit of this journey and are ready for the war on the horizon.
> 
> also, advanced warning that the next fic will contain the MCD tag, so bets as to who we're going to lose should be placed now :D
> 
> if you need something lighter in the meantime, one of my friends has made a wonderful drawing of sapnap with his new arm (which he'll be getting in the next fic, yay i can stop proof reading for "arms" xD) - check it out here!! https://twitter.com/Angsty01/status/1292815262975131653

**Author's Note:**

> Wahay! The second instalment of the series is here, let's goooo! Time for lots of theories and discussion to begin, and if you're wanting to get involved follow me on twitter (https://twitter.com/amooniesong) or ask for an invite to the discord server. I do like sharing a few hints as I'm writing ;)
> 
> Please let me know what you're thinking in the comments below, it always makes my day to hear from you guys! Hopefully I'll have another update out soon (though I have an operation on August 4th so I may be a little more sporadic at that time!)


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